The Other Side
by Madame Stephanie
Summary: After Yami no Bakura was defeated at the Battle City Tournament, events from his distant past have been occuring in the present. What is most frightening about this is that Yami no Bakura cannot remember how his life ended the first time.
1. Chapter 1

A young boy of sixteen was on his knees, his head bowed, crying silently to himself. He was fragile-looking, with his silky white hair and large tear-rimmed eyes. The boy's name was Ryou Bakura, and Ryou had never felt more confused in the whole of his life. He couldn't remember anything, only moments ago, he had been resting on a bed in the Hospital. His pale hand, deathly white, was clutching the upper half of his right arm which was bleeding heavily. The red of his blood stood out so clearly on his paper-white skin, almost translucent in its frailness. His grip tightened as he tried to hold the slipping bandage in place.

Before Ryou stood another youth, only a year or two older, his name was Yugi Motou, or that was the name of the body. The person was Yami no Yugi, the spirit of the Sennen Puzzle, the golden upside-down pyramid hanging from a chain around his neck. The Sennen Puzzle was in actuality built from golden puzzle pieces, and the centre piece had a wadjet eye carved in it, which was staring at the sobbing boy trembling merely a few feet away. This scene is strange enough as it is currently written, but to make things even stranger, behind Yami no Yugi was a dragon whose snake-like body was wrapped around the whole of the blimp the two stood on.

It wasn't a real dragon, of course, but the most realistic hologram that anyone watching had ever seen. The dragon's name was Slifer the Sky Dragon, and he was a beauty that can hardly be described: his scales were a brilliant shade of red, and his body was perhaps hundreds of feet long, which was why it was wrapped around the blimp. Its head was enormous as well, it's wide mouth filled with many razor-sharp teeth, and its cruel yellow eyes wide open in anticipation as it waited for the order to attack. As he is currently described, Slifer could be mistaken for any common dragon. What made this particular specimen unique was the fact that it had two heads, one directly on top and attached to the main lower one. The holographic dragon's breath came in small tufts of white smoke, although not because Slifer breathed fire, but because the wind on top of the blimp was far below freezing.

The platform the two adolescents stood on was a raised field made especially for the game that the two had been playing and that was currently paused. Although, it wasn't the boy Ryou who had been playing, but his other, the spirit who lived within the Sennen Ring that he possessed and occasionally possessed his body: Yami no Bakura, the polar opposite of Yami no Yugi. His control over their body had wavered and this was how the current situation was born. Ryou was weaker than his other; the deep knife wound festering on their right arm had overcome the young boy. To someone as ancient and powerful as Yami no Bakura, the wound was nothing to fret over.

The silence dragged on, the silence that had possessed the field ever since Yami no Bakura had lost control of his and Ryou's body. Yami no Yugi was perhaps even more confused than Ryou of what to do, if such uncertainty was even possible. His wine-coloured eyes were wide with the pain of indecision. Ryou Bakura was his friend, not his closet friend or his loudest, but he was still a member of their group, his group. He was so close to winning, so close he could have tasted victory, but now everything was ruined. He could not blame Yami no Bakura for his current problem, since it was entirely Marik's fault. He had simply walked onto the top of the blimp, with his Sennen Rod, and changed everything:

...

The tall, tanned man with the hieroglyphic tattoo on the right side of his face stepped forward from the shadows. He wore a dark, billowing robe and hood that fluttered menacingly in the cold autumn wind and covered his thick body and bald head. To the knowledge of Yami no Yugi and his friends, this man's name was "Marik Ishtar", their sworn enemy. He was heartless and ruthless, with no consideration for human life: even his own, as long as he achieved his goal. In order for his plan to succeed, or to at least carry things along smoothly, Yami no Yugi could not win this duel with Yami no Bakura: seeing as Yami no Bakura was Marik's alley.

To make things simple, Yami no Yugi was "good" and Yami no Bakura was "evil", if such things as "good and evil" exist. Marik was "evil" too, so the two joined forces to achieve their goals. The game Yami no Yugi and Yami no Bakura were playing was none other than Duel Monsters, perhaps the most popular card game ever invented. America and Japan were where the game was most popular. This tournament, Battle City, was currently holding its preliminaries and finals on a blimp. It was one of many, but this tournament was special, it was more than a tournament, it was destiny.

Continuing the previous story, the cloaked and hooded man stepped forward to the jeers and hisses of the active audience. He shrugged the insults off easily, and locked gazes with Yami no Yugi. Yami no Bakura was watching, his sharp eyes darting between Yami no Yugi and Rishid (known among the others as Marik) unsure of what exactly was happening. "Listen carefully, Yugi, that boy is being controlled by my Sennen Rod." Using his Sennen Item, he pointed at Yami no Bakura, who blinked in surprise. What did Marik's servant mean by that? He was under his own control, not Rishid's, so why was he saying that? He silently wondered whether it had anything to do with how he was about to lose to Yami no Yugi: this was supposed to be the last turn, his last turn.

Yugi paid no heed to Yami no Bakura either and shouted to Rishid, "You're the one who brain-washed Ryou!" he remembered how strange Ryou had been acting earlier, before Yami no Bakura had revealed himself. How his eyes had appeared so blank, as he stated emotionlessly that the Hospital had released him early so he could come to the tournament preliminaries. How Ryou had left the Hospital in enough time to collect six locater cards (the cards needed to enter the last rounds) was very unclear.

"I'll show you proof." Rishid, playing Marik's part effectively, continued, "I'll release his true personality." Yami no Bakura couldn't say a word, or make any kind of movement before he felt his hold over Ryou's body slipping and Ryou's soul emerging, passing his as it rose and his own returned to the Sennen Ring, hidden beneath Ryou's shirt. Once Ryou was fully in control, he gasped painfully and fell to his knees, his hand grabbing at his wounded right arm as it began to bleed once more. "Agh! My arm- It hurts-! It hurts-! Ugh-" Ryou half shouted, half moaned. Such pain, he could feel blood pooling beneath his fingers and spilling down his arm. Where was he? What had happened? Why wasn't he at the Hospital?

"Ryou!" Yami no Yugi shouted, staring as his immortal enemy became his severely-mortal friend, beginning to bleed as his wound reopened. He had known that Ryou wasn't ready to be out of the Hospital. Yami Yugi didn't run to Ryou, in fear of being disqualified from the tournament. Normally he wouldn't have cared, but this card game was a lot more than what it appeared to be at first. Rishid continued, although the distressed Yami no Yugi was only half-listening. "As you can see, that boy is badly wounded. An attack from the sky dragon will grant you victory but the shock could very well take that boy's life. Are you willing to do that?"

Yugi was enraged, he thought angrily, 'You're using Bakura's life as shield! Why you filthy-!' The audience cried and shouted from beneath the raised duel platform. "That's not fair!"

"Ryou! Wake up!"

"Ryou, no!" the last cry was Yugi's who was one step closer to Ryou, not daring to take another step forward. 'If I attack him then-!' The real Marik, in the back of the crowd, who will not yet be described was feeling very pleased with himself. 'Yugi, if you hesitate on this last turn all five letters will appear on Bakura's side of the field, and you will lose. It's either you or him.'

Isono, the announcer who watched over the platform's control and enforced the rules shouted "Continue the battle, Yugi! Players may only have five minutes to think on each turn. You have thirty seconds left!" Yami Yugi could only stare ahead at his friend, he couldn't take the life of his friend! "Ugh- Yugi, it really hurts-! Please-" Ryou whispered, feeling his strength rapidly leaving him. Yami Yugi bit his lip as Isono called out he had twenty seconds, 'Ryou doesn't have enough mental strength to withstand Slifer's attack!' Kaiba couldn't watch this any longer, as Yugi's rival he wanted to face him and not Ryou in the last round of the finals.

...

A young boy of sixteen was on his knees, his head bowed, crying silently to himself. _'What do I do?'_ He was fragile-looking, with his silky white hair and large tear-rimmed eyes. _'If I lose now, I will never be able to face Marik, and recover the lost memories from my past life.' _The boy's name was Ryou. _'I won't, I can't kill my friend!' _But just as Yami no Yugi was raising his hand to surrender the duel, the strangest thing happened: _'Even I have ways I like to win, and ways I hate to win! Stay out of this, Marik!' _Yami no Bakura returned, having taken possession of their body once more, he rose steadily to his feet. "Bakura!" Yami no Yugi shouted in surprise.

"Yugi-" Yami no Bakura began in his high, raspy voice, "I'll let you win this time! Attack me! Don't worry, your little gaming buddy won't die- so strike!" How would he justify his actions? After he had refused to let Marik handle things his own way, he had taken control of Ryou's body once more, to save his life. It had stirred something within his dark heart to see his host crying and slowly dying before him, he didn't know how to explain it. He couldn't let Yami no Yugi, 'The Pharaoh', kill Ryou: he simply wouldn't allow it. "I need this host in the end, to gain the power of darkness." His eventual goal, would it ever happen? Without Ryou, it was impossible.

_"Do it Yugi!"_ Yami no Bakura screamed the words, he couldn't wait any longer, this had to happen now! "You asked for it!" Yami no Yugi shouted back at him, secretly relieved that Ryou was no longer in danger. The great dragon, Slifer the Sky Dragon, opened his first enormous mouth and with one tremendous blast of lightening knocked Bakura straight off his feet, slamming him into the metal floor of the blimp roof. Yami no Yugi was breathing hard, as if that had been exhausting, he wasn't exactly what you would call worried for Yami no Bakura, but he was curious to see what would happen now. He had attacked his wounded enemy and won the duel, now was he alright? He ran forward, shouting Ryou's name, just to be sure his mortal friend was still alive.

...

Yami Bakura could remember that so clearly, looking out of the 'Battle City' blimp window from Ryou's tournament participant room. Heavy clouds rolled over the night sky, and blocked the silver stars from view. Although the atmosphere would normally indicate an upcoming storm, Yami Bakura knew that it wasn't going to rain, somehow or other it didn't seem that way. Yami Bakura had always been good at predicting things, not the future necessarily, but the outcome of a situation. His guesses were often correct, simply because he had lived, or existed long enough to just 'know'.

Because Yami Bakura possessed Ryou's body in place of owning one himself, he took on Ryou's appearance, but because of his powerful aura the two were not identical. Ryou's long white hair, so thick and soft, falling to his shoulders became a lot wilder when the other was in control: the front of his hair lifting in a way that reminded some people of a rabbit's ears and the pieces in the back sticking out more noticeably then they had before. His eyes were another thing that changed a considerable amount: Ryou's chocolate orbs became a violent red. After that, the lids narrowed, the brows furrowed, and his lips tweaked creating a forever mocking expression. Or sometimes, the eyes widened and the lips pursed, having him appear frighteningly angry.

The spirit of the Sennen Ring is quite the character, but you will come to know him better later. The Sennen Ring is almost as important though, it was Yami Bakura's permanent home and Ryou's possession. The Sennen Ring was not truly a ring, but a pendent hung around the neck. It was a beautiful object, made of pure gold in the shape of a circle. In that circle, a triangle was firmly fastened, a wadjet eye carved in the centre. From the bottom half of the ring five needles were fastened, shaped more like thin cones. It was sinister-looking, and even those trained in the lore of the Sennen Items didn't know exactly what the ring and its hanging needles were used for.

Frustratingly enough for Yami Bakura, he did not currently have his Sennen Ring, the girl Anzu did. She was one of Ryou's friends, a brown haired girl with wide blue eyes and a permanent smile on her rounded face. Of course, Marik had been speaking through her, using his Sennen Rod to posses her mind, the same way he had with his host earlier today. He knew that Marik would return his ring eventually, but he wished that he would hurry. He knew better than to think that Marik could have had Anzu return his ring while she and the other members of Yami Yugi's group had been visiting the unconscious Ryou, but still, it was uncomfortable to be without it.

Yami Bakura was lying so stilly and silently on his and Ryou's bed that when there was a sudden knock at the door he actually jumped at the sound. Muttering a few swearwords under his breath, he glanced at the door without turning his head in that general direction, looking with his eyes. He doubted that it was another member of Yami Yugi's group, they were all surely sleeping by now. Since the rules of this tournament stated that the participants would fight a duel a day in the preliminaries he was nearly positive they would be resting for tomorrow. However small the possibility though, he wouldn't blow his cover, Yami Yugi and his gang couldn't know that he was still here.

So he remained silent and said nothing at all, there wasn't a noise from the other side of the door either, so just as he was ready to assume that his guest had left, the door opened. Yami Bakura quickly shut his eyes, he had to pretend that he was sleeping. The only noise his visitor made was the soft fall of their footsteps, which was unnerving, especially since there was only one set. The person came closer and closer until they were at the edge of the bed, now that they were this close he could hear their light breathing. What did they want? Yami Bakura wished they would go away and leave him in peace.

That's when he heard Anzu's voice, not her true voice, but the monotone she spoke in when Marik was speaking through her. "Open your eyes, Bakura, I know you're awake. I have something of yours." After these words Yami Bakura felt the presence of his ring, the home of his soul. His eyes shot open, and the 'wounded' Yami Bakura sat up quickly. Taking the ring from Anzu, (or Marik, if you preferred) he quickly placed the object around his neck and tucked it into his shirt so that the cold metal was against his skin. He suddenly felt so much more energetic, like he had been incomplete without his ring. He suppressed the desire to let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Marik, I was actually just hoping that you would return this to me." The doll, Anzu, smiled as she answered "There's not need to thank me, you should be apologizing for ruining my plans earlier." Yami Bakura didn't say anything, just when he was beginning to think Marik was occasionally decent he went and screwed everything up again. He didn't answer, deciding to keep his nose clean and his tongue in check, when Marik spoke again. "Why don't you spend the night in my room, Bakura? I'll let you sleep in my bed." At this Yami Bakura blinked, why would Marik offer him something like that? "Why?" was all the spirit asked, not feeling like beating around the bush. A smile came over Anzu's lips, if Marik was actually in front of him he knew it wouldn't be a smile, but one of those malicious grins of his. "Come and find out."

...

When Yami Bakura reached the door, he knocked to see if Marik was even there, and this whole thing wasn't all some farce of his. "Come in, Bakura." There was a small click: Marik had unlocked the door to his room. Yami Bakura walked in cautiously, as though expecting some sort of trap, but when nothing happened he relaxed and looked to Marik, lying awake on his bed. Marik, the sun-kissed Egyptian foreigner, as always, was looking his best. Like Ryou, Marik was in his late teens. His fine, bleach-blonde hair was thrown back and wind-swept, almost to his mid-back. To match his oddly-coloured hair, Marik owned a set of two gorgeous eyes, pale lavender in colour, with a rather dangerous, mischievous look to them. Unlike Ryou, whose body was both slender and fragile, Marik's was heavily built for his age: his tanned skin decorated with gold bracelets, armlets, and rings. Yes, Marik was definitely the Jewel of the Sahara, and his many fans and lovers knew it.

Marik grinned wickedly at Yami Bakura, eyeing him attentively "Bakura, you came. How happy this makes me-" Marik's voice was alive and playful (as always) and despite the late hour, he got up from his bed, and looked Yami Bakura up and down from a different angle. For sleeping clothes, Marik wore only a loose black T-shirt. Yami Bakura looked Marik up and down, and found himself drawn to his exposed legs- they were nicely formed and hairless, but marked with scars. "I thought you would have had too much pride to sleep in my bed- I somehow had the impression you would refuse my offer immediately after I suggested it." Marik started tauntingly, letting out a little laugh. "Tell me Bakura, where did your pride go? I'm almost worried Ryou's rubbing off on you!" When Yami Bakura didn't answer Marik continued, but in a softer tone. "Well, since you're here I'll sleep on the floor. My bed is too small for both of us."

Yami Bakura looked away from Marik's legs, and lifted his eyes to his face. His manner as harsh as ever. "You haven't done anything to the bed, have you? Because if I wake up and you've done something stupid you'll regret it, Marik-" Marik only giggled mischievously, eying his filed nails. "No, Bakura, there is nothing in my bed. How would I sleep in it the next night? You're only here because I'm your friend now. If we're to be allies, we might as well try to get to know each other if we can." Though his words meant well, the way Marik said them you'd think he was still taunting. As he spoke Marik kicked at heaps of unidentifiable objects to clear a space, unrolled a spare blanket onto the floor, and curled to one side on top of it. There were many things Yami Bakura had wanted to ask him then, but Marik seemed as though he was finished for tonight, and he was tired anyway. So for now, Yami Bakura stepped over him, lay down on his bed, and went to sleep.

...

Marik couldn't get to sleep, ever since Yami Bakura had come into his room, this strange feeling had crept up inside of him. It was hard to explain, and there was no other emotion Marik could match it too. The best way he could have described it was a tingling feeling, from his forehead. Marik rolled his eyes and snorted at the irony. _'I wonder why my foreheads aching, when it's my back that's going to be killing me tomorrow. I should have known better than to let Bakura sleep in my bed, I'm going to be feeling this floor for weeks.'_

He turned to his other side, and pushed himself to his knees, where his face was even with Yami Bakura's on the bed. The spirit was sleeping, and for one who usually appeared so cold and sarcastic, his features twisted into smirks and glares it was strange to see him looking so- peaceful? His features were calm and relaxed, his breathing slow, gentle, and absent of snores or other bothersome noises. Ryou's cotton nightclothes worn loosely over his skin- Marik blinked as he realized what he was thinking and shook his head. _'Since when have I had thoughts like that?'_ Marik worried, turning away from Bakura in fear of being entranced again, _'Surely they weren't my thoughts, they couldn't have been-'_ Marik winced as his forehead burned sharply and painfully, almost as if the spot had come in contact with a stovetop burner. With a surprised gasp he pressed his hand over his head in an attempt to stop the pain, it took a while to fade completely, and when it had Marik's light eyes were streaming. _'What was that? I must be going out of my mind: looking at men, unexplainable jolts of pain, they've been happening ever since I met him. Is he doing this?'_ He looked over at Bakura again, _'No, I don't think so. Only the Rod, my Sennen Item, can change another's thoughts like mine have been changed.'_

_..._

A few hours later and Marik was sleeping, the morning coming fast. When the first few rays of golden sunlight drifted in through the blimp-window and hit the gold of the Sennen Ring and Rod, lying dormant on the table, perhaps it was the light, or maybe something else, but at that time both of the items flashed brightly: lighting the room in a way the sun never could.


	2. Chapter 2

Ryou Bakura, a 16-year-old exchange student currently staying in Japan, slowly came to himself after a long rest. Ryou sat up tiredly, yawning and rubbing his eyes. For a short while things seemed normal, until he realized his wounded right arm wasn't stuck full of tubes and wires anymore, and he wasn't lying in an infirmary bed. He blinked, confused, and looked around the room he was in: It wasn't another infirmary room as Ryou had been expecting, but appeared to be a small metal room with rounded windows. Posters of teenage girls in bright bikinis had been taped to the walls, their smiles frozen on their flawless faces, a duel disk and a deck of cards lay on the bedside table, and a wide variety of things: from dirty clothing, to unfinished homework sheets and even toothbrushes were strewn across the floor. Ryou wasn't sure whether to feel frustrated or worried in this situation, it probably wasn't anything to fret over though, this had his Yami's name written all over it. He groaned and put a hand to his head, the memories of last night returning to him- he had a headache. Ryou pulled his face from his hand after a time. He knew now that this must be a tournament participant room, since his Yami had entered him in the Battle City tournament. Now he needed to get out of this room, whoever's it was. Slowly he pushed himself onto the floor, and after straightening his nightclothes turned and made the bed behind him. Once he finished making the bed, Ryou walked out of the room, and to his surprise heard people shouting his name:

"Where is he?"

"Ryou!"

"He must be somewhere!"

"Ryou, where are you!"

Walking steadily, not eager to make himself known to those looking for him, he followed the noise back to the main room of the blimp. There he saw four people, searching the room frantically, but not very well: did they truly expect him to be hiding behind the couch or under the coffee table? "Good morning? You can stop looking for me, I'm right here." Those looking for him immediately stopped their search at the sound of his voice, and turned to face him. Anzu, Jonouchi, Honda and Yugi were the ones who had been searching for him, Ryou's Japanese friends. Now, my readers, I'm sure all of you noticed the mentioning of Yugi's name- but similar to Yami Bakura and Ryou, Yami Yugi and Yugi were two entirely different people. "Ryou!" Anzu shouted gleefully, running for him. "What-? No!" Ryou acted too late, Anzu pounced on him and they both fell backwards, Anzu on top and Ryou landing painfully on his back. "Oh, Anzu-" Yugi mumbled, scratching the back of his head. "Are you alright, Ryou?" he asked cautiously, worried Anzu may have harmed him. "We were really worried about you earlier!" Anzu stated playfully, her high voice scratching against Ryou's eardrums as badly as nails on a chalkboard. Without replying Ryou glared at her and pushed Anzu off: who fell to the floor laughing. Ryou stood to his feet, dusting himself off, and very nearly cried out in sudden pain: now not only was his head hurting, but his back was aching from the fall.

"Yeah." Jonouchi added, agreeing with Anzu while running a hand through his thick, blonde hair. He indicated this with a mere shrug of his shoulders. "I'll bet you heard Anzu, she just kept shouting your name! It got pretty annoyin' after awhile, though." Ryou nodded curtly, forcing himself to smile, he felt his patience waning. "Well, that's very good and all, but there's really no need to worry about me. I'm feeling fine, I have a bit of a headache, but once again, that's nothing to worry about." The three of them were giving him a 'look', but Ryou chose to ignore it. Ryou turned quickly and began to exit the room. He had thought of an excellent plan of escape, he would go to his bedroom, and go back to sleep. It was as simple as it sounded. Just when he was a few feet from the exit, Ryou thought of an even _better _idea. "Hey, mates?" Ryou turned around, putting on his most innocent, fake smile. "Could you help me with something? I'm looking for Mar- I mean, Namu. Have you seen him?" Ryou knew very well Marik's code name, Namu, he had learned it from Yami Bakura. No matter how much the spirit despised him, since they shared one body neither could keep secrets from the other: this included the secrets of other people as well.

The four of Ryou's friends only exchanged glances, until after a time Yugi answered. "Last we saw of him, he was helping to look for you, although he was searching the patio. Why, do you need him for something?" Ryou rolled his eyes, "It's nothing important, but I wanted to speak with him. You said the patio, right? Thanks." Ryou flashed them another fake grin, the other had faded when Yugi questioned him, and walked right past- leaving the others behind with confused expressions on their faces. As he went on his way to the patio, Ryou wondered if he should have referred to Marik by his codename, he could have very easily have given Marik away to his friends: they were, after all, looking for the man named 'Marik'.

'_Marik has done so many awful things to me, my friends, and even his own followers! All for his stupid "revenge", the conclusion being the death of one of my friends! I know this better than anyone, not only being one of the people Marik used, but having seen his work firsthand. I am, after all, the body of Marik's only true ally. If I'm really a good person, I should turn back now and tell them everything I know about Marik. I mean, Yugi's life is at stake!'_ Ryou paused, and looked to the window beside him- staring not at the view below, but his reflection in the glass. _'But, why don't I want to? I don't want Yugi to die, but I don't want to give Marik away, either.'_ Ryou bit his lip, feeling his chocolate eyes beginning to mist over. _'It's not right. I don't know why Marik wants to kill Yugi, but Yugi is my friend! Marik hasn't done anything for me, other than given me this wound in my arm.'_ Ryou looked to his right arm, which was heavily bandaged near the shoulder. The memories of how he had achieved the wound were fuzzy, but he knew for a fact that it was somehow connected with Marik, and possibly even Yami Bakura. Just as Ryou was about to turn around, and tell his friends the truth, another voice spoke. _'True, Marik hasn't done much for you, but neither have your friends.'_

Ryou, who had been two steps in the opposite direction stopped again, that had been Yami Bakura's voice. _'What are you talking about, Bakura? My friends have done lots for me, and that's an understatement!'_ Ryou didn't say the words outloud; Bakura was able to hear him either way. It was important not to act oddly around other people, and who knows who could walk down the corridor? _'Is it?' _Bakura continued, _'then tell me, why it always seems they are ignoring you?' _Ryou gave a small laugh before answering Bakura, what was he going on about? _'Ignoring me? They don't ignore me: they were looking for me, and I spoke with them just earlier.'_

'_They were looking for you out of curiosity, not love. You may not have noticed, fool, but they weren't looking very hard.'_

'_They were still looking for me! What would you know about it anyway, Bakura, you don't have any friends!'_

'_Maybe I do, maybe I don't, either way I used to. They aren't your friends. Haven't you ever wondered why they never speak with you? Why they never notice when something's wrong? Why they don't care?'_

'_Shut up, you wretch! I hate how you're always lying to me!'_

'_But I'm not lying, my sweet Ryou, not this time. Think about it logically. You came to their school as an exchange student with your mother and your sister dead, you were living alone in an apartment away from your father because he didn't want you, and you were friendless in a new place. They were kind at first because they felt sorry for you, being a group of sentimental fools. That's when they met me, and discovered you were the owner of one of the seven Sennen Items. That's when The Pharaoh became interested in you. That's why they let you play around with them, because of me!'_ Ryou let out a little sob, he felt as if he was about to cry, but he wasn't going to let Bakura know he was getting to him. _'The Pharaoh?'_

_'Yugi refers to him as his other self, but The Pharaoh is the spirit of the Sennen Puzzle, Yugi's Sennen Item, like I am the spirit of the Sennen Ring. But he is not the subject. Ryou, you must understand the truth about your "friends". They're the enemy, your enemy, my enemy.'_

_'I still think you're lying! What about the last round of the tournament, when you were fighting The Pharaoh? You and Marik threatened him with my life! Since I'm not as strong as you are, Bakura, you had me take control of our body right when he was going to strike the final blow- if he had attacked me then, I would have died, but I didn't!_

Until then, Yami Bakura had been conversing in a casual tone, as if this conversation concerned a topic as simple as the weather. Now though, his voice changed, becoming low and raspy with anger. _'How dare you say The Pharaoh spared you there! The Pharaoh underneath all his talk is nothing more than a pompous ass that will do anything to win! In that fight, when everything went dark you thought you had fainted from our injuries, didn't you? Well, you didn't! That was me, I took control of our body before The Pharaoh had a chance to kill you, he attacked me right afterwards! Stupid Ryou, The Pharaoh doesn't give a damn about your life!' _Ryou blinked, Bakura's words coming as a shock to him. _'So, you're saying that Yugi would have killed me to win that duel? You're saying that you, of all people, saved me?'_

Bakura didn't answer right away, instead Ryou heard growling as though he now regretted saying what he did. _'That is exactly what I have been trying to tell you. It is not Marik and I who are your enemies, but your so-called friends. You had wanted to speak to Marik about something earlier, why not go get aquatinted?'_ Afterwards Bakura's voice died away, and Ryou was left feeling rather awkward in the hallway. He felt so confused, more than he had in a long time, if Bakura had been telling the truth, his friends didn't care about him at all: but could he be trusted? Bakura had been the cause of so much of his pain- and so much of his happiness? A childhood memory, faded with age, returned to him.

...

From a child's perspective, the world can be a very dark and scary place. Even if to the eyes of an adult, it is unthreatening. A much younger Ryou of barely 6 years of age sat up in bed, his blue and white quilted blanket wrapped around his small, shaking shoulders. His parents and older sister, Amane, were sleeping soundly in their bedrooms. Ryou wondered how they could, with this terrible thunderstorm raging outside: the very ground seemed to shake with every roar of thunder, and the room so very dark until the silver light flashed for a second, scaring him, before fading again. Small sobs escaped his pink lips and fat tears rolled down his rounded cheeks, sticking to his long eyelashes.

It was so silent in his bedroom, the sound of rainfall was the only thing Ryou could hear. Although the lack of noise would normally have been a peaceful thing for the child, it now seemed eerie and empty. It felt to him as though there was someone else in the room with him, watching him. Deciding to be brave as his parents and Amane always were, Ryou pulled his small hands away from his tear-streaked face, and opened his large eyes to see his dark bedroom. His stuffed animals' beady eyes were no longer a source of happiness, but frightening in the dim light, his mirror showed his reflection from across the bedroom, and in the dark that too was contorted. Feeling about ready to close his eyes again, he looked straight forward to see the scariest and strangest sight of all: there was another person sitting on the edge of his bed.

This was the first meeting between Ryou and Yami Bakura, and as it was now, Yami Bakura was very nearly a mirror image of Ryou. Their small bodies and clothing were identical: but the spirit's white hair, so much like Ryou's, stood up in the front in a way that reminded the young Ryou of a rabbit's ears. His eyes were still a dark brown, although they were considerably crueller looking and narrower. The difference that was most noticeable, though, was that Bakura was transparent. To state it blandly, Yami Bakura looked exactly as he did now, only much younger. Ryou sat completely still, until in fear let loose a small hiccup. It was then that Yami Bakura noticed Ryou was looking at him and that the spirit turned to face the trembling child. Ryou wasn't sure what to expect, although it was an understatement to say that he was scared. A silence hung between them until Yami Bakura turned to face him completely, and asked in his current voice, only slightly affected with the tones of youth "Why are you crying?" Ryou hiccupped again, unsure of whether to answer the mysterious figure that resembled him so. "I-It's just the storm. It scares me." The words were barely above a whisper. "Why though, does the storm frighten you?" Bakura replied, smiling at the youth. Although Yami Bakura appeared so young, he still had his current mind. He was a spirit, after all, and only looked the way he did due to the owner of the Sennen Ring's appearance. "You live in a place where it rains and thunders often. You should be used to it by now."

Ryou nodded silently, staring down at his pudgy hands clutched in his lap. It was a habit he still had today. "I shouldn't be scared, I-I want to be brave, but it's so loud- and I'm so alone. I wish 'mane or mummy or even daddy were here." Bakura smiled, he didn't smirk, but smiled warmly at the child. He felt in his cold heart a love for this child, his new host, although he couldn't fathom why. "You're not alone. I'm here." Bakura moved closer and closer until his face was merely an inch away, on his hands and knees, his eyes hooded and lips parted with his wispy spiritual form glowing silver in the dark. Ryou hiccupped again, feeling the spirit's hair float about him and tickle his cheeks. He stared into those eyes, not brown as they had appeared, but a blood red- and fell in love with the person he saw. Bakura whispered, "I'll watch over you. Not just tonight, but always- from now on I'll be with you, inside you, forever." The spirit brought his lips even closer, pressing them to Ryou's cheek in a kiss. Ryou's round face lit up in a watery smile, now that he wasn't so afraid, his young body felt overcome with exhaustion- "Who are you? Are you my guardian angel?" He remembered his mother telling him that there was an angel looking over him, that they were a beautiful being from another world that would protect him. Yami Bakura laughed softly, such innocence, "Something like that."

...

Ryou blinked as his current life came rushing back to him, from what world had that memory come from? That had been almost ten years ago, and he had very nearly forgotten it. Realizing that he hadn't, Ryou wiped away the tears that had fallen during his and Bakura's most recent conversation, and set his face. For now, at least, he wouldn't tell his friends about Namu's true identity. Besides, Ryou had wanted the chance to speak with Marik. There were some things he had wanted to ask him. Although personally, Ryou was feeling rather crushed, and only wanted to go back to his room and think, but Bakura had given him an order to talk to Marik, and he knew better than to disobey.

Walking onto the patio of the Battleship, Ryou saw Marik at the edge of the balcony, leaning forward on the railing. His pale hair was blowing in the wind, his dark skin had a faint glow in the weak sunlight, and something about the way he stood there seemed almost surreal. Just looking at him gave Ryou a weird tingling feeling all over. Taking a deep breath, he tried to build up the courage to go over and speak with him. Ryou had always been extremely shy. It was in this moment, seeing Marik, that Ryou realized why he hadn't been able to give him away to Yugi and the others. You see, the secret was that Ryou was attracted to Marik, ever since his other had stopped him in the alleyway where they had met: he had just looked so powerful, maybe even powerful enough to save his condemned soul- The small memory served as a boost, and Ryou let out the breath he had been holding, walking over to Marik and tapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Marik?"

Marik turned around quickly, his lavender eyes wide with surprise. The Egyptian had been very deep in thought, and Bakura's vessel had surprised him. "Oh-" Marik sighed, taking in a deep breath, "Sorry, Ryou? That is your name, isn't it? You surprised me." Ryou moved up beside Marik, trying not to let the fact that Marik had forgotten his name get to him. "Yes, Ryou. What were you thinking about, Marik?" He asked the question innocently, his eyes not looking into Marik's, but straight ahead at the view. Marik only shook his head, "Nothing you'd understand. It wouldn't interest you."

In all honesty, Marik had been thinking about Yami Bakura. Even though he was only a spirit using another's body, the way he changed that body- Not to say that Ryou was unattractive, but considering that he barely knew the boy's name, how could he ever bring himself to think about him like that? Marik felt disgusted with himself for thinking this way, when he had first met the deranged spirit he hadn't loved him, what had changed? Ever since that night when Bakura had slept in his bed he had been having difficulties tearing his thoughts away from the Yami. It was strange for him- he had never felt like this before, not for another man, anyway. Ryou blinked, his dark eyes narrowing to slits at Marik's comment. "I'm not stupid, I'm sure I could understand." Once again having to disconnect himself from his thoughts, Marik looked to Ryou and watched Bakura's little vessel tremble. Marik had to fight to keep himself from laughing, he looked so silly there, he could almost be mistaken for cute- The Egyptian's strange reaction stopped Ryou from continuing. "I agree, Ryou-Chan, you probably could. But the thing is, you don't need to know. I might consider telling you though, if you would be willing to answer my question."

Ryou blinked, his face changing from that of defiance, to a look of confusion. What would Marik want to ask him? "Well, alright. What is it you want to know?" Marik didn't hesitate in asking, although it was a very strange question, "Why are you here, when only yesterday I tried to kill you?" There was a silence, in which Ryou was unsure of how to answer: so Bakura had been telling the truth. It was Marik who had tried to kill him, not his Yami. In the end, Ryou didn't know what to tell Marik, so he answered with a question of his own. "Are you also the reason my arm is wounded?" Marik laughed curtly, and shrugged his shoulders, "Partially, but it was your Yami that gave you that wound." Ryou's brown eyes widened, Yami Bakura had done this? But this was his body too! "Why?" Marik rolled his eyes, "Because it was necessary. Your Yami and I met at Domino Harbour at exactly 6:31 PM. He wanted my Sennen Rod, and I wanted Yugi's God Card and his life." Here Ryou took an intake of breath, his worst fears confirmed, but did not interrupt. "I told him that currently I needed my Sennen Rod, but after my revenge on The Pharaoh and after receiving my God Card, it would be as worthless to me as a hunk of metal. He could have it, for all I cared. Do you know Ryou that the easiest way through The Pharaoh is through his friends? He let me 'borrow' you, he stabbed himself with a switchblade and forced you in control." Ryou stared at Marik, unable to speak, "He was laughing, I remember."

Ryou didn't want to know anymore, to think that he had been used to hurt his friends, to think that he had been used by someone he had felt so attracted to. His frail heart wavered, and his already pale face drained of all colour. "What were you thinking about?" Ryou asked again, softly and shakily. Did he even want to know? "You never answered my question-" Marik taunted, a smile spreading across his face. "I-I don't know why I'm here." Marik snorted, and wrinkled his noise at Ryou's distasteful answer. "Fine then, I was thinking about your Yami. Dearest Bakura. You know him only as your other, but he is so much more, Ryou." All the emotions Ryou had been feeling moments before emptied like bathwater through a drain, now he was left feeling rather hollow inside. Ryou breathed in deeply, struggling to hide his emotions, or lack of them. "Oh- Well, anyway, I guess I'll be seeing you around. Good day, Marik." With nothing more to say, and feeling a need to escape the situation, Ryou turned and hurried away feeling more wretched then he ever had before. Marik noticed, but did nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

Ryou slouched off to his room feeling very much like a child that had been punished for an unfair reason. _'I shouldn't have gone to speak with him; I should never have asked the questions I did, or even what he was thinking about. I feel awful, even worse than I did after Yami Bakura's lecture. I haven't felt this betrayed, this violated, since my mother and sister were-'_ Ryou couldn't continue, but sat down on his infirmary bed, and pulled his legs to his chest to rest his head on his knees. Although Ryou was hurt and angry that he had been used by Marik and Bakura to harm his friends, he couldn't help but wonder why Marik was thinking about his Yami with such admiration, and where Marik's newest plaything was, or even if his newest plaything was Bakura! (Ryou knew well-enough that Marik left a trail of broken hearts wherever he went, and that if he had wanted his Yami sexually he would have abandoned his current lover in the space of a heartbeat). The thought disgusted Ryou, and brought to life a series of possibilities, _'Yami Bakura is a spirit, who in his true form is unable to touch or be touched by anyone other than me. So that would mean if Yami Bakura and Marik were ever to start a relationship, Yami Bakura would have no choice but to use my body.'_ Ryou's paused in his thinking as sudden realization sending a shiver of fear down his spine. _'And worse yet, I know very well that both my Yami and Marik are very- lustful– and would not hesitate in using my body in sexual ways!'_ Ryou felt sick, remembering that he had awoken to find himself in someone else's room. Was it possible that that room had been Marik's?

Earlier Ryou had likened his emotional dissatisfaction as 'feeling violated', if he had felt that way before, he certainly felt that way now. Surely Yami Bakura had a little more respect for him then that? Surely he would never even consider using him as a sexual outlet without his permission! Ryou took a deep breath and fell backwards on his mattress, staring up the ceiling. _'I don't feel any pain in my- lower areas- so unless Marik was being extremely gentle it is possible that I'm overreacting. I know better than to think that Marik would ever agree to be the receiver, but I also know that Yami Bakura is even more stubborn than he is! Although, my Yami is a masochist, and just might enjoy something as painful as that- It's not fair! It's not fair at all, Yami Bakura treats me like I'm worthless and that I don't have a say anything, but then again who doesn't? I've been stepped on my whole life, why should I let myself get worked up over it now?' _The memory of his and Yami Bakura's first meeting once again returned to him, or a fragment of it did, "Are you my guardian angel?" and hadn't Bakura replied, "Something like that."? Ryou knew it was stupid of him but he had to bury his face in his pillow to hide his tears. _'Liar.'_

...

Yami Bakura sat in the darkness of his spiritual home, his eyes searching for a light that was not there. He wasn't sure how or why this darkness was here, but the fact remained that it was. He had been sitting for what felt like hours, and he was extremely tired due to having been woken up early by Ryou's 'friends'. It hurt even to keep his eyes open. Slowly, he shut them in what he told him was nothing more than a short rest.

...

His mother loved him dearly and she wanted nothing more for him than to have the best life he possibly could. Her soft, tanned skin was marred with heavy scars, but even still she was beautiful. Her hair was a glossy black, and was very long, straight and flat against her heart-shaped head. She was very different from every other woman in Egypt due to her unnatural beauty and it was often said that she was a witch, that witchcraft was the only possible way to be so terribly beautiful. Those rumours though, existed only outside of Kul Elna. The people there ignored her liquid hair, painfully gorgeous face and her strange eyes: they were almond-shaped and pitch in colour. Strangely though, for all her beauty the woman was very fragile- meek- frail. If her eyes weren't so alive, she would have looked very much like a ghost: for though she wasn't transparent, she was the sort of person who looked as if she were to fall over, she would shatter into a million glass pieces. Akefia loved his mother. His father, however, was a different matter.

Tanned and heavily-built, Akefia's father could hardly be likened to anything other than a monster. His shoulder-length hair grew in black tangles, black even against the night sky, but a dark green in the light of day. A shade that very much matched his eyes, they too, were a shimmering green. Although they glowed, they were not beautiful- these were dark and cold, well-described as endless tunnels. Everyone knew Akefia's father, and everyone feared him, but no one feared him as much as Akefia did. Not even his mother, who his father harassed and beat every other day.

These two people- Akefia's mother and father- when someone looked at the two of them they would never have guessed that Akefia was their child. Like his mother, Akefia was very different from every child in Egypt, and not only because he had inherited his mother's face. He was albino. It was a rare condition, with his white skin (now tanned in the Egyptian sun), white hair and pale blue eyes anyone outside of Kul Elna would have him killed on religious terms. He was a demon. Akefia couldn't help but wonder if this condition of his was the reason his father hated his mother and him so. He didn't know.

Akefia and his mother had what you would call a "special relationship". Late at night, when his father was sleeping, Akefia would sneak into the centre room and over to the rug where she slept, and the two of them would talk over their problems and worries, and each would do their best to help the other. Akefia's biggest problem though, and his daily fear, he could never bring himself to tell his mother. His poor, wretched mother, who would shake like a leaf and back herself into a corner every time Akefia's father did something as simple as enter the room, wasn't her life hard enough without Akefia putting even more pressure on her? Of course, he had agreed when the two of them started meeting in the night that they would tell each other everything, but this was more important than his promise, and there are (were) precious few things more important than a promise. Dim lights, muffled screams, and silk chains stained with blood; it happened every few days and there wasn't anything anyone could do to stop it. Normally it wasn't too bad, Akefia managed to convince himself: he only had to close his eyes, take deep breaths, and imagine something cheerful. It hurt a little less and was over more quickly. Honestly though, he didn't think his situation could get much worse. How very wrong he was.

Akefia had spent all of one day with his two best friends and Vera. Akefia's best friends were a set of identical twins named Malik and Marik, and although alike in looks the two were polar opposites. Malik was shy, friendly, and optimistic. His brother, (the older twin), was bold, daring, and brave to the point of stupidity. Vera was Malik's best friend, a small dark-haired girl who was celebrating her seventh birthday in a week or two. This upcoming treat was all she wanted to talk about. Malik enjoyed her company, Akefia didn't mind her but Marik said he hated her and was very rarely kind to her. When the sun had set, and his friends had had to leave for the day, while walking home Akefia walked as slowly as possible. Taking breaks every few minutes, looking at what the vendors had to sell, and even watching the birds. It wasn't that Akefia really wanted to do any of these things, but the truth was that he was afraid to go home. His mother was on the other side of town shopping, and his father was sure to be the only one home, waiting for him. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of what his father would do to him when he returned. He was very late; it was an hour past his curfew: his father was very angry when he was late.

Normally his father's punishments were sadistic and painful, but sometimes when his father's bloodlust wasn't so powerful, he would turn to other methods. In Akefia's opinion, these were less pleasant. As he had found out the hard way, there are things far worse than physical torture. Unfortunately, he couldn't hold back forever, and when Akefia finally reached his house he was trembling with fear: like the last leaf of summer blown away in the autumn wind. After a moment's hesitation he stepped through the curtain that was his door. At first there was silence, then the soft fall of footsteps. Akefia already knew who they belonged to, but he only caught a glimpse of the owner before their large, powerful arms were dragging him away into the darkness.

His father had blown out all the candles, and even though the sun had already set, the heavy curtains had been drawn shut, just in case. The room was pitch, and Akefia was terrified. He had always had the unnerving suspicion that his father could see in the dark, as he spent so much of his time there. There was no way of knowing for sure, but whether he could or couldn't didn't matter because either way he found him. A cold voice hissed in his ear, barely above a whisper. "You're late; I've been waiting for far longer than an hour." Akefia drew a deep, shuddering breath. He knew that he was going to be punished no matter what he did or said, but maybe if he was polite it would be over sooner. "I-I know. I'm sorry, father, please forgive me-" Soft laughter echoed throughout the room, and even after the noise had died away his father didn't answer. Instead he felt his long, cold hands grip at his clothing, and slowly remove it. Akefia gasped as he felt the material slide down his body, and fall in a bunch at his feet. He knew what was coming, he had known what was coming before it had happened; this was the worst of his father's punishments. "P-Please father- Please- Don't-" Still there was no answer.

...

Yami Bakura woke abruptly, his large eyes opening to a world of darkness. He lay there for a while, his dream coming back to him in fragments. It took him quite some time to find the will to sit up, but once he had he shut his eyes tightly and pressed his hands over them. What a nightmare. There was very little Yami Bakura could remember about his life as Akefia, but the time with his parents, the making of the Sennen Items, and some of his adult life was fairly clear. Since the day of his death, when his soul had been called to the Sennen Ring, he had forgotten everything about the life he had once lived. The memories that were still his own, though, he saw time to time in visions such as this. This had to be one of the worst memories yet, he remembered that that particular night had been the most painful and merciless of all of his father's sexual assaults on him. With a deep breath to calm his nerves, he raised his shaking hands to his face. They were paler than they were normally, almost seeming to glow in the surrounding darkness. _'I'm not sitting in the dark.'_ Bakura thought, _'If I were really in a dark place, than I wouldn't be able to see my hands. This is just a background- what's happened to my room?'_

The after-effects of sleep were beginning to wear off, and Yami Bakura remembered that there was a lot more in his Sennen Ring than darkness. The Sennen Ring was the home of his soul; you'd have to be a very unoriginal person to have a room such as this. The problem was he was unsure of how to fix the problem. He sat there for a time, struggling to answer the riddle that had been forced on him when his thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, powerful emotion of grief. But these surely weren't his emotions? These belonged to Ryou Bakura. With a start, Yami Bakura knew what had happened to his room! Ryou was so unhappy right now, (for whatever reason) he had temporarily destroyed it. Both his and Ryou's soulroom existed within the Sennen Ring, and when Ryou's room was affected, so was his. Bakura glared at the surrounding dark. _'Stupid Ryou.'_ He thought, feeling his anger mix with this sadness. 'Moping and crying, as always. He should have known how that would have affected me, the selfish child!" With a sigh, Bakura shut his eyes and relaxed: he'd take control of their body, and then _Ryou _could sit in this darkness that _he_ had created. He couldn't help but smile maliciously as Ryou appeared where he had been sitting, and the black of The Ring faded from view.


	4. Chapter 4

Ryou, who had been laying half-asleep on his bed, idly daydreaming of a future that would never exist, Yami Bakura now lay. The golden light of the Sennen Ring had faded, revealing a very different person from Ryou Bakura, he was now fully transformed. Bakura sat up and looked around Ryou's clean room, hoping to see the reason for his hikari's distress. After seeing nothing strange or unusual, Bakura was left feeling quite confused. _'There's nothing here! It looks like Ryou's room always does. I wonder what had caused that bought of emotion, was it another person? Has something happened to Ryou outside of this room?_' Yami Bakura felt a slight worry for Ryou against his will. Little children were molested or abused daily all over the world, could that possibly be happening to his young hikari? It wasn't exactly an unreasonable theory, Ryou never stood up for himself. Whenever he was faced with a situation he couldn't cope with, instead of trying to find a way out he went into a breakdown and either began throwing things and screaming or sometimes even just falling over and sobbing pathetically. It was best to avoid Ryou when he became like this, because for hours afterwards he was impossible to reason with. Even after the flood of tears ended, he would lay immobile and complain about how cruel and unfair his life was, and how he wanted his "mummy" to come and comfort him. Yami Bakura would never admit, even to himself, that when Ryou was like this it pulled at his seemingly non-existent heartstrings. Ryou must have been in a state like this when the Sennen Ring went dark, Bakura bit his lip. What could have happened?

Yami Bakura seriously considered his theory of Ryou being molested or abused before snorting and shaking his head, _'And who on this ship would do that? Molest Ryou? He's just pining for attention again.'_ And just as he was about to drop the matter, a small voice whispered in his ear, _'If he wants attention badly enough to throw a fit like this over the matter, he might need it. At his age a lack of love and care is unhealthy.'_ But before Bakura could reply, a voice other than his own argued, _'If Ryou needed attention, he would have done things to attract attention.'_ The other voice didn't agree: _'Ryou wouldn't do that, selfish he'd call it. Don't assume that just because he doesn't want to bother anyone, he __doesn't__ need it. In the end, all humans do. Humans are needy things, and Ryou one of the neediest. He doesn't have a mother, a reliable father, siblings, or even friends. It should be Bakura's job to love him, but the wretched creature doesn't.' _The other voice was temporarily silenced, at first it spoke softly, and then grew louder with confidence. '_You might just be right! Yami Bakura should care more for Ryou. After all, isn't Ryou the only person he really has?'_

Finally Yami Bakura's limit was reached, and he grabbed at his white locks and shouted in his raspy voice, "Shut up! Both of you! Shut the bloody hell up! I'm sick of listening to you two bicker, and at this rate you're going to make me angry! (you won't like me when I'm angry) So shut up, already!" There was no answer, because by now the voices were gone. Had they been scared away by Bakura's anger, or had they ever truly existed? Breathing deeply, Bakura tried to calm himself, pacing back and forth across Ryou's bedroom. _'Alright, to hell with that idea, what if Ryou just wasn't in a good mood today? It's as simple as that. Why am I making such a big deal out of it? Everyone has a bad day sometimes.' _Although Bakura had been sure when the voices had left they wouldn't return again, the first answered his question, _'Could it be __love?__'_

Even with something as simple as the mention of that word and Ryou in one sentence, Bakura felt his cheeks flush red. "What-? No! Ryou's just- Ryou- In love with _Ryou?_ Are you insane?" embarrassment quickly became anger, but the voice was unmoved. _'Well, if I am it's your fault, but that's beside the point. I didn't mean love as in sexual love, I meant as a friend or brother.' _Bakura grit his teeth and pulled once more at his hair. "No, no, no, no, _no!_ He's my host, my body, and my vessel- nothing more!" still determined to prove their point, the other added, _'or is he?'_ The explosion that came from Bakura afterwards was almost immediate, and in his rage, Bakura almost seemed to forget that he was talking to himself- "No! And if you so much as mention his name again, I myself will punish you, and I promise your death will not be swift or painle-!" Suddenly, a loud knocking noise was heard coming from the wall, someone on the other side was banging against it. "Bakura! Can you do everyone on this blimp a favour and shut up?' Marik's loud voice roared from the other side. "We're all sick of listening to you talk to yourself, go outside if you need to do that!"

...

Marik rolled over, his back now facing the wall, Bakura was such a fool. He should know that killing a voice is impossible, whether the death is swift and painless or not. "Can't anyone get some sleep around here?" he groaned, closing his eyes again. Even though it was mid-morning, he felt tired, Bakura had been in his bed last night and sleeping on the floor had robbed him of much-needed rest. _'No…'_ A second voice replied. It was calm, deep, and vaguely resembled his own. Marik's eyes opened in a flash, and just as quickly he sat up. He looked around, but no one was there. '_What? Are you surprised to hear me? I'll admit it's been a while.'_ That same voice growled, _'but you should recognize me. I've been talking to you for years, haven't I? We're friends, Marik, and have been ever since the day you underwent the rite. Remember?' _It had been a long time since Marik had felt truly afraid of anything, but now he felt fear beyond his imagining. The last time he had heard this voice had been before and after his father's death. Until today, he had pushed it from his mind and explained to himself that it was a voice induced by the surprise of his father's betrayal and sudden death: a part of him gone funny, that had curled up and died some time ago.

'_I've been reading your thoughts-'_ the voice continued, '_You thought __I__ had died? Don't be stupid, Malik, I'm stronger than that. I'm far stronger than you think I am, Malik. After all I'm you, and you're pretty strong, aren't you?'_ Marik could feel sweat running down his face and body, his arms and legs trembling: this voice was claiming to be _him? _And why was it calling him 'Malik'? "What do you want? I'm trying to sleep." Marik spoke out loud, unsure if the voice would be able to hear him otherwise. Marik had to try very hard to keep his voice steady while saying this. The voice answered, but it's reply was queer. _'I want to speak with Bakura.'_ Marik was confused. "What? What about Bakura? Why would you-?" But Marik couldn't continue. Suddenly, a loud knocking noise was heard coming from the wall, someone on the other side was banging against it. "Marik, follow your own rules!" Bakura's raspy voice demanded from the other side, "If I can't talk to myself, than you can't either! Shut up!"

Marik felt a powerful and pleasurable excitement that wasn't his build and explode in the pit of his stomach. _'Was that Bakura?'_ the voice demanded, and Marik nodded slowly, still unable to believe this was happening to him. "Yes, that was him-" Suddenly, an exploding pain burst in Marik's mind, he felt a banging, his pulse was beating on the inside of his skull. Everything was going red- blinding and bright, and just as the pain had reached an unbearable level, it was gone, and so was Marik.

The spirit who had possessed Marik looked down at his host's body, _'Nice,'_ he thought in admiration, His host was tall and tanned with powerful muscles- it was good until that point, but the outfit was awful! His host wore a short-cut, sleeveless, lavender hoodie over a black tanktop with sand-coloured cargo pants. It must have been a matter of opinion, but the colours clashed, and the outfit beside Marik's gold Egyptian jewellery looked tacky. Taking a deep breath, the spirit walked to the mirror and stared at his host's face (hoping for the best), and was amazed by what he saw. His head fit perfectly on Marik's strong shoulders and his bleach-blonde hair, which had once fallen messily past his shoulders, was now standing on end- giving him an almost sinister look. Marik's pupils had shrunken, and his eyelids had been too heavy for the intruder to keep up, so they now were left half-open- adding an arrogant look to the list of things Marik's image was now screaming. A glowing wadjet eye flickered on his exposed forehead with a bright flash.

Yami Marik grinned at his appearance, the only thing bothering him now were these wretched clothes. He quickly pulled off the neon-purple hoodie, leaving only the skintight tanktop- which was sleeveless, thin, and black. For a time, Yami Marik looked at himself in the mirror, posing and enjoying how his host's muscles constricted when he moved his arms underneath the shirt. _'Much better, but it's still missing something.'_ Yami Marik looked around the room for something to complete his image. He saw a baggy orange sports jacket, a thick winter coat, Marik's school uniform, and a black cape- all strewn carelessly on the floor. Laughing softly, he lifted the black cape gently in his arms and draped it around his shoulders to see how it looked. The gold he wore on his arms, neck, and ears shone in an almost beautiful way against the black; he couldn't believe how good he looked. Picking up the Sennen Rod, which had been lying on the beside-table, he glanced at the door. _'Bakura- are you still the same person I remember?'_ Shoving the rod into the waistband of his pants he walked out the door to either deny or confirm his suspicions on his old friend.

...

Yami Bakura had dozed off; it had been Ryou's fault (as always). That pitiful creature had been so stressed that he had exhausted his body, enough so to where it had been very tempting to lay down and rest, no matter how much Bakura didn't want too. He felt that all he had done today was sleep and there were more important things to be doing. How unfortunate that he couldn't notice the door open. It was now mid-afternoon; they would be calling the next duel shortly. Dimmed sunlight filtered in through the circular window, and a chilly breeze rustled the curtains. Yami Marik walked over to Bakura, who lay on his stomach, his head turned to the side. His eyes were shut softly, a few strands of his white hair had fallen in his face, and were occasionally blown by his steady breathing. His expression was neutral, but a small trace of a frown was evident on his ghostly face due to the hair tickling his cheeks. When he had first entered the room, Yami Marik hadn't noticed that Yami Bakura was naked except for the white blanket covering his body, but now his eyes were drawn to this pleasant fact. Yami Marik bit his lip. The sight had an unnatural effect on him. He felt a wanting, a desire, a _need_. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping Bakura, he slowly ran his hand down the smooth back: through the soft hair, and even had the nerve to feel his legs through the thin blanket. _'What am I doing?' _the thought came suddenly, and with it a small twinge of surprise. Seriously, what _was _he doing? What the Hell would happen if Bakura woke up? He really should stop-

He was still running his hand over Bakura's legs when the paler one groaned in his sleep, and turned to his left side, now facing the wall. Yami Marik froze, his hand stopping where it lay on Bakura's thighs. He didn't feel embarrassed, but the emotion (if that is what it was?) intensified when Bakura groaned and slowly sat up. His brown eyes were half-shut with sleep and it took him a while to notice Yami Marik sitting on his bed. Bakura's weariness fell away instantly at the sight before him, what the hell was wrong with Marik? His hair was standing on end, his clothing was different, his eyes had lost their charm and his pupils were smaller. He tried to ignore how much more attractive Marik looked, but was it really Marik? How could it be? Although he looked almost exactly like his Egyptian friend, other than the wild hair, his aura and his whole being was so very different. "Marik?" Bakura asked, unsure of what else to say, "Is that you? Why do you look so strange? And what the _hell_ d'you think you're doing?" He tried to ask the question politely since Marik was his friend, but there really wasn't an easy way to do that, and Bakura had never been a very polite person. As he spoke, Bakura slapped Marik's groping hand from his leg. Yami Marik's eyes flashed, and the corners of Marik's mouth turned upwards into an almost demonic smile. "Marik?" the imposter repeated mockingly, "Sorry Bakura, but that is incorrect. I am not Marik. I do not have a name, or at least, not one that I remember. In the meantime call me _Yami_ Marik. I've been watching you, Akefia. How have you been in my absence?"


	5. Chapter 5

Yami Marik sat down on the edge of the bed beside Yami Bakura, whose eyes were wide, his pupils shrunken in a cross between surprise and uncertainty, maybe even a hint of fear. He didn't answer, although couldn't answer was probably closer to the truth. He had seen his man, Yami Marik (as he had asked to be called) somewhere before. That reorganization was taking up all the space within his mind and was all he could concentrate on. Yami Marik grinned sadistically and waved his hand in front of Bakura's dark, wide eyes. He let out a small laugh when he looked away. Yami Marik's small motion seemed to have woken him a little, for his eyes returned to normal size, and his breathing levelled some. "Well," Yami Marik continued, "are you going to answer me or not, Bakura? I'm not sure you remember, but I can be quite impatient."

Bakura took a deep breath, trying his best to ignore the sweat sticking his legs to the blanket. He wasn't sure what to say or do, and was especially unsure of what this 'Yami Marik' wanted. He shut his eyes in desperation, perhaps he could just tell him to get the Hell out and continue sleeping, or maybe ignore him until he left, when a sudden realization hit him- it must have been the after-effects of sleep or the dream he had just had, for normally he wouldn't have cared in the slightest that he was only wearing a blanket. Now, though, the thought terrified him. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he saw that this 'Yami Marik' would be impossible to fight off without using his Sennen Item. He looked hopefully down at his chest, expecting to see his ring, but when it wasn't there he remembered with a jolt that it was sitting on the bedside table. His long, pale, spider-like hands grabbed at the material that had bunched around his waist when he had sat up, tugging it to cover his slender, yet muscular chest. He was barely aware of the slight tremors that shook him or of the fear that shone now clearly in his eyes, these actions perhaps at another time would have disgusted him, but at the moment he couldn't care less. He was busy formulating a plan to get his ring from the table without looking suspicious. How he regretted throwing away Ryou's nightclothes, now.

Yami Marik's smirk faded at Bakura's apparent fear, what was scaring him so much? Even he knew his appearance was a little threatening, but to cower at the mere sight of him was a bit much. He cocked an eyebrow, maybe this wasn't Bakura at all. The person he had known could not have been scared so easily. Closing his eyes, he sifted quickly through Marik's memories, and after a short while he found memory of a person much like the one before him. _'Ryou?'_ he thought. He opened his eyes to take another look: it wasn't exact, but he did resemble this 'Ryou' from Marik's memory. He decided to check, since he couldn't be absolutely sure. He spoke the name softly and as sweetly as he could, according to Marik, Ryou was easily frightened and sensitive (and attractive? What did that have to do with anything?)

Bakura didn't respond immediately, he opened his eyes slowly, and looked up at him, too confused now to be fearful. Did this man honestly think he was Ryou? As far as he knew, he was nothing like Ryou. The two of them were opposites, darkness and light, so why was he calling him Ryou? He had half a mind to tell this 'Yami Marik' who he really was, (not kindly, either), to make sure he wouldn't make such a stupid mistake again. The other half of his mind though, knew better. He had come in hoping to speak with him, not Ryou; if he could play Ryou's part effectively he might just leave. It would be a strange sight for anyone who knew him, to see him acting so weak, because for Bakura that was a nearly impossible stunt. "Please don't hurt me-" He whimpered, shrinking further under the blankets, pleading eyes misting over. Yami Marik sighed in frustration; he had been so sure this was Bakura. Once again he had been disappointed. Would he ever find his friend again? He didn't know, but he could only keep looking, keep hoping.

...

"Bakura! Wait up!" Akefia slowed to a halt and turned to look behind at Marik and his twin, Malik, both of which were out of breath and lagging far behind. The two only called him Bakura when they were desperate to catch his attention. His last name was Bakura, but around his friends he was known as 'Akefia', the name his mother had given him. A wicked smile spread across Akefia's young face, "You two are slow, can't you run any faster? We're never going to get back home on time if we don't hurry. Besides, I'm hungry, the sooner we get back the better."

The three boys were either seven or eight years old, and for children so young it could be quite a bore in the village, especially when one had nothing to do. Most of the younger girls in the village of Kul Elna enjoyed sitting in small circles and talking amongst themselves, but the boys normally escaped the confines of the village and played in the sand of the empty outskirts of Kul Elna.

But tonight something special was happening. The girls weren't outside playing their little games, and none of the other children had wanted to play in the sand with them- not today. It was raining, or storming if you preferred. Lightning lit all of the sky, and thunder chased noisily after it, a cross between rain and mist sprinkled down from the heavens and wet everything in sight, turning the sand into a thick muck which the boys had had fun picking up and throwing at each other. Most of the other villagers though, thought the rain to be frightening, and that the Gods must have been tearing apart the sky for such chaos to occur. Although Akefia's mother had begged him not to go, Akefia's father hadn't cared, and it was his opinion that mattered. On the other hand Marik and Malik were orphans, and had no parents to tell them what to do. The three of them were known for being the bravest amongst the children, and so naturally they were the only ones who went out.

Akefia leaned against a large husk, which might have been a tree once, but had long ago withered and died from lack of water. He looked at his nails in an impatient sort of way while his friends caught their breath. He could run for hours and never slow. "Still," Malik whined, after he could breathe properly again, "The mud's thick, you may be light on your feet and unaffected by the sticking, but we're not. Can't we please just walk? You don't need to run everywhere, do you?" Akefia sighed, almost feeling sorry for his less-speedy friends. "No, I don't, but I want to get home…" His grin had been pulled downward with the idea of having to walk home, but it snapped right back as a sudden thought entered this mind. "Race you there!" With that he turned and ran in the direction of their village, nothing more now than a red blur halfway out of sight. "No fair!" the two called in unison as they began chasing after him once more.

...

Yami Marik remembered that night clearly, not only was that the first time he had ever seen rain, it was the night that his village had burned, and what more- it was the night that- He shook his head. There was no time to think about that, Malik was fine now and that was the past, _3,000 years_ past. He sighed, and with a jolt noticed that Ryou was still cowering from him. His momentary distraction had given him time to completely hide himself under the covers of the bed. Only, looking over him again, there was an aura of power about him- surely Ryou had nothing of those likes.

Yami Bakura had been thinking the intruder must have left during the lengthy silence, but then he heard his voice: that strange, deep voice. "I see now. You aren't Ryou at all, are you? You're a good actor, Akefia, but Ryou's skin could only have hidden you for so long. Come out, look at me- take one good look and you'll know I'm no danger to you. Look at me, and you'll remember." His voice was different from before. The last time he had heard it, it had sounded smug and mocking, but now it sounded- kinder, perhaps? No, more like a prophet, predicting the inevitable. Either way, the voice no longer sounded dangerous. Bakura felt his worry slip a few notches, he was being stupid. This man, whoever he was, wasn't his father. Although, perhaps this next move was even stupider than all the other actions before, but something in that voice told him he was safe. He poked his head out from under the sheets (the blankets had long since fallen to the floor) and looked into the man's eyes. They were so much like Marik's, but so different at the same time. These eyes seemed calmer, hiding more. People say that eyes are windows to the soul, these windows had shutters. He sat up and let the sheets fall back down to his waist. He looked at the intruder's face; he eyed every part of him. He didn't remember anything, nothing at all. No slight recollection or memory came to him. He shook his head no, and somehow, the other seemed almost hurt with his action.

"Nothing? Nothing at all?" Yami Bakura shook his head again, "No. Nothing." There was silence from Yami Marik, "Fine, I'll tell you who I am, Akefia. Do you remember Kul Elna?"

"What?"

"_Kul Elna._ Don't 'what' me! You know perfectly well what I'm talking about."

There was a silence, it wasn't uncomfortable but it held a buzzing, like white noise playing faintly in the background. Of course he remembered Kul Elna. He was so young when the tragedy had happened that it had made a permanent impact on not only his sanity, but his very soul. It was one of the very few things he could remember about his past: Kul Elna. He feared the memory would never fade. "There were two other people with you at the time Kul Elna was destroyed," Yami Marik continued, noticing Bakura wasn't going to comment on his previous words. He heard his voice darken as he added, "And there was only one other by the end. Do you remember them? I was one, my brother was the other." Bakura's eyes widened, something about that did sound vaguely familiar, and it stirred something, but didn't awaken anything.

Yami Marik felt his voice waver as he continued the story he had started not long ago, it was almost impossible for him to word most of the memory that had played in his mind so many times, but he tried.

...

The race was over, Akefia had won, anyone could have predicated that. He was standing at the edge of a gap between two buildings, completely still, there was a strange red light spilling into the alleyway washing over their friend and casting a strange and eerie shadow over the desert behind him. Finally the two reached him, Malik caught his breath first, he looked up and was about to ask Akefia what was wrong until his own eyes flickered, and he went under the same spell that had befallen Akefia. Marik eyed the two of them as he caught his breath, after a few moments he stood up himself. "What are you two looking a-?" Then he saw it, Corpses were piled in the streets, blood splattered the dirt walls and stained the sand, and fire ate at everything. The heavy rain couldn't put it out, the flames were too high- they reached the top of the night sky and in Marik's eye seemed to be consuming even that. The smoke covered the skies, hiding the heavens from view, and not even one of them could even see the lightening anymore: but the thunder still roared in the distance.

There was silence, empty and penetrating until Malik screamed and ran foreword, his feet splashing in deep puddles of red, cloudy water, sending it in all directions- the red of it glinting in the firelight before it hit the floor. He was running to the corpse of a small girl, her cloth dress was wet and sticky with blood, and her eyes were glassy, their soul having left them. He slipped in the bloody water and fell over before he was halfway there, and crawled the rest of the way, not having the strength to stand. When he reached the girl, he hugged her still body. The small girl had been Vera, one of Malik's closest friends, the girl Marik had been so cruel to in life. Marik felt sick. Seeing her in this state was disturbing and wrong, they could all feel it.

Malik's scream had ended and his brother was now crying silently, still too shocked to be hysterical, but somewhere in the desert they could still hear him screaming, his shrill cry riding on the wind. Marik fell forward, his eyes dark with emotion as he stared at his wailing brother. Tears rolled down the boy's face- and to hide them he covered his face with his hands. Akefia continued staring until he too fell alongside his friend. He wrapped his arms around the other boy's shaking shoulders in an understanding way, and buried his face in Marik's tunic.

Holding onto each other for support, they didn't let go for what felt like hours, but in reality was only a few minutes. They might have remained there until the end of time, if they were not interrupted by a horrible screaming much unlike Malik's earlier weeping. Both their heads shot up immediately. It was Marik's turn to scream now. It was awful, no, it went beyond that: there was no word in any language of the world to ever describe how wrong it was, his brother- his beautiful brother- Akefia stared too, but said nothing, his mind reeling at the sight. There was a guard above Malik, his eyes held no compassion for the screaming child at his feet, his body ripped and torn from the many times he had been struck with the guard's knife.

Marik heard Akefia join him in his scream of surprise and rage, but was too distracted by the sight of his younger brother's pain to care. The guard turned, and saw the children huddled in the alleyway- leaving Malik behind, he ran at them, his knife held above his head- Marik was sure these were the last moments of his life, but the man was soaked in rain and had been running through a puddle of water when the thunder and lightening hit one another and exploded. The result was devastating, creating a light so blinding it burst through the putrid fog, just for a moment, until it faded to reveal the man's body face-down in the wet sand.

Both the boys were on their feet now, clinging to one other; they had been preparing to run. "Malik…" Marik whispered, moments later Marik shoved Akefia away from him and ran to his brother's side, who lay still, clothes soaked with blood, Malik's blood. Akefia watched silently from the shadows of the alleyway as Marik lifted the upper half of his brother into his arms, forcing his twin, his other half, to look at him. "Malik, tell me you're alright! You're alright, aren't you? Please- please brother, tell me you are!" He hugged his twin tightly, his eyes shut, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks.

Malik was struggling to breath, it was becoming more difficult by the second. He shakily turned his eyes to his brother's grief-stricken face. He opened his mouth to comfort him, but instead of words he began coughing fit to die. Somehow though, he managed to wrap his shaking arms around his brother. "S-Stop talking like that-"he whispered softly, taking a shuddering breath, Marik felt his brother's heart race increase, unhealthily so. "I-I'll be- I'll be a-al-"

Those were Malik's last words, how tragic. His eyes grew wider, he started coughing again, violently, horribly- his brother's blood splaying on Marik's tunic, and before he knew it, Malik wasn't breathing. Marik felt his brother's body flail in his arms as he struggled to breathe and than, in that instant, he fell limp. Marik couldn't scream, couldn't cry, couldn't do anything or make any noise. He was frozen, the grip on his brother's corpse tightened, he was shaking, his breathing was uneven and trembling. It was all he could do for him now; he was stroking his brother's soft golden hair, staining it with blood, Malik's own blood.

Marik hiccupped - if he had thought he was beyond tears he was wrong, for more were building in his faded eyes. Weak sobs broke free, and he shut down, letting his tears fall. He didn't care who saw, he didn't care what anyone thought, weak things such as words or opinions were beyond him now. Akefia slowly came up to his last friend, and knelt beside him. He stared deeply into Malik's glassy eyes, but winced and looked away, for their blank gaze burned. Still he forced himself to put his hand on Malik's shoulder.

"Put him down, Marik. He's gone."

"N-No. You can't tell me what to do, Bakura!"

"It will be harder to let go, the longer you wait."

"I-I don't care-"

"Marik- please, be reasonable-"

"_No!"_

Marik dropped his brother, spun around, and hit Akefia as hard as he could. Akefia's blue-grey eyes widened to their largest extent as he fell over. Realization of what he had done hit Marik, he dropped his brother's body into the filthy water and mud, to tend to the friend he had wounded.

"Akefia-" His voice begged for a response. When he didn't answer Marik lifted him, the same way he had lifted his brother. "I'm so sorry-" he whispered, keeping him close to his chest. "I-It's just that- just that when mother got sick- S-she told me she knew she was going to d-die. Malik was weaker then I was and she knew that, so she told me to watch over him- To keep him safe- And I- I- I let him die! I let my brother die! I've betrayed mother, I've betrayed Malik, I've betrayed my whole family by letting him die!" He dropped Akefia and covered his eyes with his filthy hands, the rain and thunder and smoke and fire still going, continuing around him…

Rage, hatred, confusion, desperation- every horrible feeling in the world swelled inside him, taking more and more space within him- until a scream broke from him, not from sadness, not from pain, not from fear- but anger, from the unfairness of the world.


	6. Chapter 6

Yami Bakura listened intently, holding as still as possible, hardly daring to breathe. Bakura had been sure that he had remembered everything about Kul Elna, the memories had come many times to his dreams, but now hearing that Malik and Marik had been there he felt slow and stupid. Yami Marik's words unravelled his thoughts entirely, exposing the truth that lay hidden there. How could he have forgotten, that he was not the only survivor of Kul Elna, and more importantly: how had he forgotten the death of his close friend? It came to him, then, that the man before him was not Yami Marik, but Marik! But, that would mean that the one had addressed as Marik for so long was in truth not Marik but Malik! The souls of the twins were connected as he and Ryou were connected, the older spiritual, while the younger claimed their name and flesh. But, would that mean that somehow Ryou was a part of this? Ryou Bakura, the one he hated so much, of all people? It was too much, too much pressure and too much stress in such a short time: the world began to close in around him, his breath grew short, and before he knew what had happened-!

With a sigh, Yami Marik looked down at his unconscious friend, he had changed so much: Akefia had been so much stronger. Although, a thought came to him as he pushed himself to his feet, perhaps the memory had been too painful to pull from its hiding place all at once. It was very possible that this memory had connected to other memories and brought everything into the light. Perhaps he should have kept quiet, would Bakura have remembered without his help? It was a difficult decision, but Yami Marik believed that he had done the right thing in telling Bakura all he remembered of Kul Elna. In order for his plans of the future to be fulfilled, Bakura had to remember much more than Kul Elna, he would have to remember everything. And with time, he would force him to remember, no matter how painful it was: for either of them. Yami Marik felt a chill run down his spine, there were some dark memories he would like to hide from Bakura, but he knew that Bakura couldn't be the way he was without knowing everything. _'Either way,' _Yami Marik thought to himself, _'He has to know, of course, but he doesn't have to know now. I want him to remember all the good memories we had together first.'_

Yami Marik left for Malik's room, and once he had entered he sat down on the edge of his own bed. It was less comfortable than Bakura's, and Yami Marik had the impression that it had a lot to do with Ryou's comfort needs. Malik didn't care how his bed felt, Yami Marik was sure that if he replaced his mattress with a slab of rock his brother would sleep on it anyway. As he sat there, deep in thought, Yami Marik found that he had come to The Pharaoh: or, as most everyone called him, Yami Yugi. The Pharaoh, who had taken everything away from not only himself, but from his younger brother and Akefia as well. Marik didn't remember much about the Pharaoh, but he did know is that he wanted revenge on The Pharaoh for everything he had done in the past. Malik, though, wanted revenge for his current father's death. It wasn't The Pharaoh's fault that the twisted man was dead in truth, it was his fault: but what Marik didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Yami Marik, whose soul had once been too weak to control their body for long, had once attempted to fill his brother's soul with hatred in hopes that he would destroy The Pharaoh. But now, Yami Marik realized that Marik was too weak, too young, and too stupid. Once again, he would have to finish the job for him. Not now, though, he felt his control of his body slipping: fine, Marik could have it back- for now…

...

When Marik came too his head was hurting, a headache no doubt, but the worst one he had experienced in a long time. He sat up slowly, his hand pressed to his forehead where the pain was the worst. Marik was confused, what had happened? He had this strange feeling, that for a time, he had not been Marik Ishtar but someone entirely new: someone that he had no memory or recollection of. He could still hear clearly that snide, whispering voice ringing in his ears: _'I want to speak with Bakura.' _What had that voice, no, that part of him wanted to speak with Bakura for? Yami Bakura knew everything about his revenge, his hatred for the Pharaoh, what was there to tell him that he didn't already know? Even if the voice had spoken "Bakura" meaning "Ryou Bakura" Yami Bakura's vessel knew even less. It was all so confusing. He hid his face in his hand, thinking long and hard about what the spirit had said. He had lost consciousness after hearing Bakura's voice through the wall: and it was his guess that the spirit had gone to see him. If that were true, was it possible that Bakura was hurt? He quickly pulled his face from his hands, Bakura was strong with his Sennen Ring, but without it he was just a collection of harsh words in a frail body: if he had been possessed by this other personality, it was possible that he could have attacked him.

It was more than friendship, it was love that carried Marik from his comfortable bed into Bakura's infirmary room so quickly. The door wasn't locked, which was a good thing; it would have wasted time for him to break it down. Breathing quickly, Marik bent over to catch his breath- which had left him behind in his haste. When Marik finally felt well enough to continue, the first thing he saw was Bakura, unconscious on the bed. Marik felt his body paralyze, and his eyes widen in both surprise and horror. It took a lot of effort to scare or hurt Bakura so badly, what could have happened? Ignoring the feeling of dread in his legs that made them as heavy as lead, Marik ran to Bakura's side and from there climbed onto the bed. He positioned his nose was mere inches away from Bakura's; Marik could feel his weak breath on his cheeks. Marik shut his eyes tightly to keep his tears at bay, what could have happened to him? If he was hurt in any way, he knew it was his fault. As a way of asking forgiveness, Marik lightly pressed his lips onto the spirits. Even if Bakura would never see or feel the kiss, he wanted to somehow let him know how much he was sorry, and how much he cared.

Yami Bakura's unconsciousness had not been very strong, merely a temporary way of escaping the frightening knowledge of the real world for a short time. The chemical imbalance that had caused his body's shutdown was now fading from his system, and he had passed into what could be called a shallow sleep. Marik, in his worry, hadn't seen Bakura's eyelids twitch or heard his breathing shift as he had climbed onto the bed and over Bakura. Bakura, who had just been on the verge of waking when Marik chose to press his glossed lips onto Bakura's pale ones, felt all sleep leave him in this sudden gesture. His white eyelids twitched once more, and eventually opened, revealing Yami Bakura's red eyes to Marik, and Marik's to Yami Bakura. With a surprised gasp and a shout, muffled by Marik's lips, Yami Bakura grabbed the Egyptian's shoulders and pushed him over the edge of the bed. Marik fell over easily, and with a loud thud and a groan, lay still on the floor. Bakura sat up, breathing a little quickly in his surprise. When his heart rate had returned to normal, Yami Bakura glared over the side of the bed. Yami Bakura did not yell, but instead he hissed at the unmoving Marik, "I don't know what you were thinking, but if you ever do it again I will punish you. Leave my room. Now!"

With a groan, Marik stood up and brushed himself off, he turned to Bakura to explain himself but seeing the look on his face Marik thought better of it and left the room. He could have easily matched any "punishment" Yami Bakura threw at him, but for the sake of their partnership he had decided to leave. He wasn't sure just why Bakura had been so angry though, but than again, Bakura always seemed angry: it wasn't anything new. Yami Bakura was glad to see him gone, but once again Marik left his room leaving him with many unanswerable questions. Had Yami Marik left? Marik seemed like himself again, but it was impossible to know for sure without hearing him speak. Well, whether it was Yami Marik or not, he had just kissed him! He didn't know what it meant, but that had made him angry. Yami Bakura lifted a pale hand to his lips, and wiped away the tangerine lipgloss Marik had left behind.

Marik did not agree with Yami Bakura, their opinions were complete opposites: Marik felt that Bakura had been overreacting, and that he should apologize immediately. What was wrong with a small kiss between friends in a time of stress? Surely Yami Bakura was somewhat moved with his actions, he had kissed him out of concern, and as an apology! Marik eventually came to the solution that Bakura was overreacting, and was pouting on his bed when an announcement came on. **"All duellists please assemble in the main hall, where the match-ups for the second duel will be decided." **Marik sighed sulkily, he wasn't in the mood to duel anyone today, and he hoped that it would not be his number that was randomly selected. As Marik was leaving his room, he saw many other people, the duellists other than himself leaving their rooms to gather in the main hall. Excluding Yami Bakura, who had been the first participant to lose, and The Pharaoh, who had been his opponent, the following duellists were: Seto Kaiba, Katsuya Jonouchi, Mai Kujaku, Ishizu Ishtar (his sister), and Rishid, Marik's servant since early childhood. All the others were the audience, people who had not entered the tournament but were there to watch the duellists.

Each of the tournament participants had a number, Yami Bakura had been seven, and Yami Yugi had been five, so their numbers had been removed. These numbers had been written on small plastic balls, which were now being churned in a bingo machine. The two numbers that came out were the two duellists who would fight each other. Marik had memorized his number, his number was one, and he kept his eyes on that ball ignoring the others that bounced alongside it. Eventually, the machine stopped, and a small ball rolled out with the number four written on it. Marik groaned, and thankfully no one noticed, even more so than before he didn't want his number being drawn. Jonouchi stepped forward, grinning stupidly, shouting at the remaining duellists if any of them felt they were strong enough to take him on. Jonouchi was a pushover, and very easily the weakest duellist here, although somehow he didn't notice- even though many people had said it directly to his face. It wasn't that Jonouchi was a bad duellist, he was in the tournament finals after all, but that didn't mean he was good either.

The bingo machine started again, and still Marik hoped for any number other than his. He kept his fingers crossed behind his back, until, another plastic ball dropped. It rolled down the slide, and hit the bottom revealing the number two. Marik smiled, Jonouchi was someone else's problem now. His smile drained away though, when he saw his servant Rishid step forward to many boos and jeers from the audience. Rishid against Jonouchi? Marik had been dreading the time Rishid's number would be chosen, it was Rishid that kept his well-constructed plan together. Everyone here believed that Rishid was Marik, and Marik was just your average duellist "Namu". He wouldn't be able to get close to the Pharaoh any other way: if Rishid did something as simple as blink when someone addressed him as Marik, everything could go wrong!

'_Well, at least this will be over quickly. Jonouchi is no match for Rishid.' _Marik's mischievous smile returned. There was nothing to worry about. The duel would be over before Rishid had the chance to mess up. Honestly, it was Jounouchi, and not Seto Kaiba he was duelling.


	7. Chapter 7

For someone like Marik, who had spent his whole life in the heat of the Egyptian sun, the cold wind atop the Battle-City Blimp was very nearly unbearable: flecked with bits of ice and drops of rain, the chill of the wind was enhanced, and signs of another storm were hinted. Marik, who had already been in an unpleasant mood when he had come outside, was now feeling even angrier and longed for this duel to hurry and end. The outcome was obvious, no matter whatever Jonouchi's friends said, Rishid was his servant and Marik wouldn't allow him to lose. He would rather use his Sennen Rod to possess him and duel Jonouchi himself (if he could) rather than Rishid lose this duel. Not only would it ruin his plans, but it would bring shame on the whole family, whether or not it was only a card game. If someone lost in any way to Jonouchi, they may as well kill themselves rather than go on living with the shame of having lost to him.

Just as Marik was wondering how long it would take everyone to assemble atop the ship and start the duel, he heard them coming up the stairs, making more noise than necessary. Marik tried to count them as they came up, first was Jonouchi (acting tough), The Pharaoh (looking angry), Anzu (encouraging Jonouchi) and Marik would have continued if he hadn't nearly inhaled a bit of ice. He spent a short time coughing while everyone interested in watching arranged themselves in a place where they could see. Jonouchi and Rishid stepped onto the duelling platform, which activated and began to rise higher. Once it was lifted nearly 4 feet higher than the level ground, the machine stopped and held its ground. Flashing lights attacked the two duellists, revealing Rishid's menacing expression and Jonouchi's battle glare. By this point the bit of hail had melted and Marik had swallowed the water and was able to look again and wipe his watering eyes. If he had not been in a bad mood before, he certainly was now. He scowled at Jonouchi if as the whole occurrence had been his fault.

"The Duel is now as followed!" announced Isono, the narrator and guide of the tournament, "Katsuya Jonouchi vs. Marik Ishtar!" Marik rolled his eyes and almost snorted, hewas Marik Ishtar - wasn't it obvious? - but a sneeze interrupted him before he could. He wiped his nose on his arm, uncaring if anyone nearby noticed. He was quite a distance off and no one did.

The duel seemed to drag on for hours. It was so boring, watching his servant conquering the duel and watching Jonouchi struggle to rack his mind for a plan that wasn't coming. It soon came to a point where it was only a matter of one turn until Rishid won and Jonouchi began talking that things became interesting: it started as a whisper, "What can you show… But you can't see?" There was a silence, and Rishid seemed confused, "I got a funny feeling… I can't explain it…" he continued, "A little while ago, I reached a point where I was resigned to losing… And just then, when winning or losing didn't matter… It's like… I sawsomething I couldn't see before…" Still more silence, was Jonouchi stalling? Marik thought it likely, this was going to turn into a long and dull speech- he could just feel it. The friends of the Pharaoh, and especially the Pharaoh himself, had this strange infatuation with lecturing about things that no one (meaning himself) cared about. It was hard to believe that Bakura's vessel, Ryou, actually enjoyed their company.

"Why didn't I figure it out sooner? Must have been the heat of battle… But then I remembered Yugi's words, what can you show, but you can't see?" Jonouchi took a deep breath, and said in a louder more confident voice, "Marik brainwashed me! He forced me to fight a duel to the death… A pointless battle that only hurt me and Yugi's hearts!" Rishid sighed, having lived his whole life with Marik he had inherited his attitude, that or Marik had inherited his: either way, this was beginning to bore him. "I'll never forgive him for that!" It was at this point that Rishid spoke, tiring of Jonouchi's words, "Then go ahead and curse me, but no matter how great your anger- you still cannot defeat me." Jonouchi didn't listen to Rishid, "When this duel started, I really hated you! I hated your guts! But… As the duel went on, I lost that hatred… And I tried to remember how bad it felt when Marik took over my mind. But you_, _you're a true duellist who fought me fair and square! So fair that I forgot those bad memories!" Marik was starting to become worried, where was he going with this? "'Cause you're not Marik!"

If there had not been silence before, there was surely silence now, not a single person spoke or even breathed and the atmosphere all but the rain and hail became very still and solid, even the wind stopped blowing. Marik gritted his white teeth, and let out a soft growl that no one heard, how had Jonouchi discovered the truth? It had been so well hidden, and so well thought out: right now Rishid was Marik! What a terrible flaw, what a horrible wound in his plan, everything was going so smoothly, too. He would have to fix this somehow, because if Rishid wasn't Marik, surely he was. He knew the way The Pharaoh and his friends looked at him, like they knew his true identity and his intentions. _'If this goes on, it will be- inconvenient.'_ he thought silently to himself.

Rishid knew full-well how important the disguise was to their plan, and proved this, only seconds after Jonouchi's words, "In a duel, no one listens to the last words of a loser! Everything ends on this turn!" But Marik knew better, he had to stop Rishid! _'Wait, Rishid!'_ He had used the power of the Sennen Rod. Rishid stopped his attack, and although he didn't look Marik's way, through the Sennen Rod Marik could feel his servant's confusion. Marik supposed he could understand, in most cases, Marik wouldn't have stopped him. _'Don't kill him yet!'_

'_But Master Marik, why?'_

'_He has to die by the hand of Re.' _Rishid took a sharp intake of breath, surely Marik, his master and his brother didn't intend for him to use a God card, on Jonouchi! It wasn't even real, making it even more dangerous to use, it was a fake that his Master Marik had hidden in his deck._ 'But… My Lord…'_

'_To maintain our deception you must demonstrate that you possess a God card. You are Marik, do you understand? Summon Re!' _Rishid didn't reply immediately, and stood still and silent, unsure of what to do. It was obvious Rishid didn't want to obey Marik, not because he wasn't loyal, but because of the danger involved. Marik let out a deep breath. He would have to talk Rishid into this. _'Rishid, if you are a true member of the Clan of the Tomb Guardians, your heart will allow you to control the fake God card. Your will is strong! Even though my voice reaches you through the power of the Sennen Rod, I cannot brainwash you! That is proof that you are a Tomb Guardian!' _Still Rishid hesitated, _'But… I do not bear the blood of the clan…'_

Marik was beginning to lose patience, but instead of becoming angry he tried coaxing once more, _'If you can control the counterfeit God card, my late father will accept you as his son, you will be as much his heir as I am!'_

'_Your… Father…?'_ Rishid remembered his words well, even to this day: "But you're just a servant!"

'_Summon Re, that will be proof. Do it, Rishid!'_

Rishid finally gave in to the pressure, he had always wanted to be a true Tomb Guardian, but he had not been born into the same family as Marik had been. The Tomb Guardians: the people who hid and protected the Sennen Items, or the few they had. It was a race set up years ago in Ancient Egypt after the death of the Great Pharaoh Atem. Instead of the Sennen Items that had brought war and pain to Egypt being passed onto the next priests, the objects were kept and hidden underground. The Tomb Guardians! But Rishid was only a servant of that family, Marik's mother had found him beside a well when he was still an infant: she had pitied him, a child left to die, and took him back to live with their family deep underground. At the time, Ishizu had been a little girl, and Marik hadn't even existed. He had lived there happily until Marik's mother died of childbirth, and Marik's father saw no more reason to be kind to him. "For the last turn, I shall prove I am the chosen one of Re! Right now, the God is resting… Though I must sacrifice my only monster on the field and half my life points to summon him, when he is here, he will burn you!" Directly afterword Rishid sacrificed his great and powerful scorpion and half his remaining life points to Summon Re to the field, just as he said he would. Everyone was quiet; no one spoke because they were afraid to miss anything. Re appeared on the field, but instead of golden and flaming his colour was smoggy and black. The bird, the beast, Re opened his mouth to attack even without Rishid's command, or so it had appeared. The Re Card had been a counterfeit, and rather than attacking Jonouchi became a vortex that covered the sky.

Marik cried out, and grabbed at his throbbing wrist, he looked down to see what was wrong: this was such a strange duel! It was Re, it was the real Re. He was emitting an aura of anger that a fake had been played in his stead. He could feel it from deep within his deck. Marik was confused at first, and the sharp pain of his wrist, now spreading through his arm, was dulling his wits: even still, Marik could remember the storm that followed in that moment. The shape of Re, which had become a canopy of darkness, began to spit bolts of lightening from the sky, and the rays were aimed at Jonouchi and Rishid! Jonouchi, who had been trying his best to avoid being hit, was eventually struck down. Rishid though did not attempt to dodge the fake Re's attack, but instead was looking up to the raging skies clearly disappointed. Marik was watching him, wishing he could go and pull his brother from that platform without spoiling what remained of his plans. Why wasn't he trying to dodge the lightning, or get off the platform? Why was Rishid being so stupid? Rishid didn't move, and soon after Jonouchi was struck. He fell gracefully to the floor, his long dark hair flowing behind him as he fell. _'Rishid!'_ he thought desperately, unable to do anything else. He felt as if he might cry, it had been years since he had last done so, but was this an awful enough situation? That same pain, burning the skin of his forehead, was returning. "No…" he whispered, wrapping his arms over his head, his body twitching, "I won't! I… Must get… To Rishid! He needs me!" But the pain had once again become unbearable, he felt that same piercing stab, that same sensation that broke through his skull, and he was gone.

There was a silence that in reality lasted only seconds but felt like years. The two duellists were down, and no one knew what to do next until after a few more seconds of hesitation Jonouchi's friends ran to the duel-stadium to help their friend. "Wait!" the announcer, Isono cried, "The Duel isn't over yet!" Many of Jonouchi's friends turned from Jonouchi to yell at Isono, "Are you crazy? They're both down!" Still Isono didn't let them enter. "They still have life points left. Even if that last attack hurt them personally, their points in the game were untouched."

"Who wins the duel then?" demanded Mai, a woman in her early-twenties with large breasts and wild blonde hair. She was extremely attractive, although she was also very stubborn and rude. She preferred to make friends with people younger than her, as her company would prove. "Whoever stands up first on this turn. Whoever displays the greater willingness to continue. They will be deemed the winner."

So they waited. Jonouchi eventually began to stir, and when he did finally wake and groan many of Jonouchi's friends began cheering in a terribly annoying way. Or so Yami Marik would tell you, if anyone felt like asking his opinion. Jonouchi stood up, and the cheering became louder, they all pushed their way closer than ever to the Duel platform, screaming questions at their friend. Jonouchi was confused and light-headed, not entirely sure of what had just happened. This dazed state didn't last long once Jonouchi saw Rishid unconscious on the floor, perhaps dead. With a cry, Jonouchi ran to the fallen servant of Marik, knelt down beside him, and lifted him into his arms. "Hey! Hey, wake up!" Rishid groaned and stirred, _he was still awake._ Yami Marik bit his lip and let out a low hiss of disapproval, he didn't want to return to the darkness, as he always did when Rishid stepped too close.


	8. Chapter 8

Yami Marik watched in silence as Jonouchi and his many friends flocked around the unconscious Rishid, so concerned with the servant's wellbeing that they had failed to notice they had left Marik (or Namu) behind or even that he had undergone a transformation into a wholly new person. Yami Marik's twisted smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, and the pupils of his hooded eyes sparkled with pleasure at this situation. It made him happy to see these fools as they were now, chaos having consumed their beings, but what made him even happier was Rishid unconscious on the platform floor.

If anyone knew the effect Rishid had on Yami Marik, and if anyone had ever wanted to ask, Yami Marik would not have been able to explain in full exactly what happened whenever he was near Rishid. He himself didn't know truly, but it must have had something to do with Marik's soul being somehow bound to Rishid's, making Marik stronger when he was near.

Souls are a curious thing: souls are constantly repeating a cycle. They enter a person when they are born into the physical realm, and possess that body. But as the body grows older, that soul is slowly being drawn back to its place of origin in the Underworld. In time, that body fails one way or another so that the soul is released and returns to the Underworld to be recycled. But souls are even more curious than death, although they are cleansed in the Underworld of their past life's thoughts and memories, the cleansing can not entirely erase who that person was: the soul will always remember each individual owner subconsciously, even if consciously they have forgotten. There are times when the soul is not ready to be removed, or was too attached to the person it once was, so much so that when it is cleansed and recycled it recreates that person: more commonly called a reincarnation. His younger brother, Malik, was a reincarnation. He died too young and too suddenly, and his soul was confused and not ready to leave its life behind.

Even rarer than a reincarnation is a spirit. Sometimes people mistake souls and spirits for being the same thing, but they are not. Spirits are the souls of people who died and returned to the Underworld, but instead of feeling an attachment to their previous life, feel attached to a soul other than their own. The soul was so attached to this certain person, that instead of being cleansed of it's past life and recycled, they enter the body of their beloved and becomes a spirit: or an alternate personality. Therapists and doctors, who cannot believe in the obvious, explain these spirits away as schizophrenia or multiple personality disorders and attempt to remove this extra soul. It can be done, but if a spirit is forced from its body, it will not return to the Underworld, but die.

Malik was a reincarnation, and Yami Marik was a spirit of Malik. Ryou and Akefia (or Yami Bakura) had a similar connection. Ryou was a reincarnation, but who was he a reincarnation of? Who was he that his Akefia had loved dearly enough to follow in death? Yami Marik filed through his brother's memory, and discovered that Akefia despised Ryou, or at least it seemed so. Spirits, over time, can forget their past lives. The two of them were nearly 3,000 years old. Akefia's soul remembered Ryou, but he himself didn't. Somehow, this made Yami Marik angry, even if he had mostly forgotten Ryou- Akefia was _his _and no one else's.

Yami Marik had been so concentrated on these thoughts of death, souls, reincarnations, and spirits that he had almost forgotten the current time and place. He was curious about Akefia's Sennen Item, the ring of souls, and why his soul possessed that object rather than sharing Ryou's body. There was some mystery behind that, but he was not given the chance to think on it though because just then: "Where are you?" Jonouchi shouted, looking wildly in all directions "Where's the real Marik that made this guy fight in his place?" Yami Marik was tempted to ignore Jonouchi, and withdraw to his bedroom to think, but now that he was here in front of this group of fools he decided to alter Malik's plan some. Although Yami Marik loved his brother dearly, he preferred a slow and cautious plan of action, while Yami Marik was just the opposite. He was determined not to let Malik take control of their body until after the tournament was over, he would make Malik's revenge a reality in his vacancy, and until then Malik would not possess their body again. "He isMarik. Or at least, Marik's shadow." Yami Marik finally spoke, and everyone turned to face him, without a word. "But the one, who casts that shadow, is me." Yami Marik felt a small smile appear at his dramatic words, which stretched wider at the horrified look on everyone's face.

In this moment many different things happened at once: Jonouchi leapt forward and began to curse him, Kaiba smiled knowingly, and the remainder of the people on the platform either gasped or said nothing and stared. Yami Marik felt a wanting to continue, it was somehow fun, in a twisted way, to watch everyone's melodramatic reactions to his words. "I no longer need a shadow. When heis around, I am hidden. Compared to me, the other Marik is a child_. _That's why he can never finish a duel- properly."

Yami Yugi was perhaps more bewildered than the others, and he looked down disbelievingly on Yami Marik from his platform height. He had not suspected in the least that 'Namu' had been Marik, and he would never have guessed that Marik had multiple personalities. Yami Yugi must have looked very strange to someone who had never seen him before, or at least to someone who had not been given a detailed description of him. He was, to say the least, very unique. Like Yami Marik and Marik, Yami Bakura and Ryou, Yami Yugi was Yugi's spirit, as Yugi was his reincarnation. What the three Yami's had in common was that they were all Egyptian spirits in the body of loved ones, and all of them knew each other. His title, 'The Pharaoh', was more than just a title: 3,000 years past he had been the Pharaoh of Egypt, and Akefia and Marik had been "common" filth, tomb raiders after his blood and throne.

The Pharaoh though, was less lucky than these two, for the only thing he could remember about his life as Pharaoh was that he had been the Pharaoh. Nothing else came to mind other than that these two spirits were his enemies. But, his appearance: Yugi was short for his age, he was 16 years old and his height was reasonably 5'5. His head was often level with other's chests, but his hair, which stood straight on end, was often level with people's necks. It had once been straight and black, or so it was rumoured, but somehow he had managed to stick it straight up in many different spikes. He had died the edges of his hair a maroon, and blonde jagged bangs fell over his face, parted as not to cover his large purple eyes. They were unlike Marik's shade, which were light and pale, but were instead a wine-colour. He had long eyelashes and pale skin, a round and effeminate face, and a skinny body. He normally wore black, studded leather and chains, and sometimes he wore his school uniform for no other reason than that he wanted too. The one thing that never changed, though, was the chain around Yugi's neck on which was strung his Sennen Item, the most important of them all, the Sennen Puzzle.

Yami Marik continued, not looking at anyone in particular, but everyone. He was immune to the awkwardness of the situation it seemed. He wasn't, although unlike the others he enjoyed the uncomfortable silence. Now though, he wanted to break it, and continue with his introduction. "If I had to mention one obvious difference, he's afraid of the dark. But I love it." He just couldn't stop smiling. He felt a sudden pain across his face, although he didn't wince. Yami Marik couldn't see it, but at random his face had- stretched. They had seen Yami Marik's soul ripple, and pull away from Marik's body. This happened often when Yami Marik was in control of their body, (ever since he took control on the blimp's patio he had felt many ripples. The others, rather than feeling them, had seen them). Yami Marik continued still, he wasn't going to let anything interrupt him. "A shadow is just a shadow. He may have lost, but now there's one thing I'm sure of. Only those who are connected to a Sennen Item can control a God Card." The reason, in Yami Marik's mind, for Rishid's loss had been because Rishid did not own a Sennen Item: there were only 7 Sennen Items, and only 3 God Cards: Yami Yugi owned the Sennen Puzzle, he owned the Sennen Rod, and Kaiba in a sense owned the Sennen Rod too and was connected to its power. Yami Yugi and Slifer the Sky Dragon, Kaiba and Obelisk the Tormentor, and Yami Marik and the Winged Dragon of Re.

For a time there was an awkward silence, until Kaiba, who would never settle for that spoke up. "Rubbish. I have no interest in your Sennen nonsense, but the God Obelisk obeys me." Yami Marik did not turn his head, but his pupils swivelled in his direction. Kaiba didn't know anything about his past self, the reason why? He just didn't care. Kaiba was a person who was bent on the future, and had no interest in the past at all. "So you say, Kaiba, but perhaps your memories also stretch back 3,000 years."

"What?" Kaiba glared at him, narrowing his pointed eyes to slits. Seto Kaiba was his full name, but no one was on first-name terms with him other than his younger brother, Mokuba Kaiba. Kaiba had a glare that could make grown men cry, and nearly everyone in Japan feared and respected this young, rich, and talented ass.

Yami Marik didn't answer his question, but instead whispered to himself, "we'll find out soon enough.." still smiling, Yami Marik turned and left the duel platform, back down to the blimp. As he was walking away, he began to laugh at the whole of everything that had just happened. What a night, what secrets had been revealed! The whole of the story was going to change now, the script will be rewritten, and he would take this card-game tournament to Hell and beyond! It would become a struggle for survival and a perfect opportunity to inflict his enemies with his warped ideas. With his Sennen Powers, this would become much more than a card game. He couldn't wait until his number came- who would his unlucky opponent be? He could feel himself trembling with excitement.

…

Ishizu watched her brother exit the Duel Platform: so Marik had lost control of himself. Ishizu loved her brothers, Rishid and Marik, but Marik had a split personality: when he changed, Marik had no morals, no self-control, and bad things happened when he was around. She dared to dream there was a way to destroy that personality, so Marik would no longer force his strange and unusual punishments onto others. He was mentally unstable, and there was no doubt in her mind that they were all in danger with his split personality in control. Rishid had fallen, and who knows when he would wake up? With him out of the way, Yami Marik never grew weak, but could control Marik for an unlimited amount of time. Would he ever leave? Ishizu already knew the answer. No, Yami Marik would not leave, and would torture and kill every last one of them excluding herself, and Ryou Bakura, because he was Yami Bakura's vessel. 'Finally…' she thought, 'He has awakened: No one can change the course of their destiny. We are headed into a future of despair; the last flickering hope has been lost. Yugi, the Sennen Battle has begun. We are headed for the true darkness, and none of us can turn back.' Lifting a tanned hand, she lightly touched the Sennen Tauk strung as a choker around her neck.

…

Instead of returning to his bedroom, Yami Marik decided to pay Yami Bakura a visit. He might have gone to sleep, it was late and this body would eventually wear out, but right now he was too excited to possibly get any rest. He opened the door of the medical room that Ryou was staying in, and looked around the room for his obsession. He saw him, lying in bed, leafing through the pages of book paying no attention whatsoever to what he was reading. "Ignoring me now, are we?" he asked sarcastically, leaning against the doorframe. He laughed out loud when Yami Bakura dropped the book at the sudden sound of his voice, and turned with a death-glare ready for the person who had caught him so off-guard. His gaze softened when he saw who it was, it was Marik… Yami Marik. He lifted the book he had dropped, feeling like a fool. The last thing he would ever have wanted was for Yami Marik to think of him as a fool. "No, I'm not ignoring you. I just didn't see you. I was busy reading."

"Since when do you read?" he asked mockingly, letting the words roll off his tongue. "Since I wanted to!" he snapped, and his features hardened to a glare that he shot like a bullet at Yami Marik. He waved curtly, trying hard not to laugh. Yami Marik loved to laugh, he laughed at everything. It was hard to come across something that he didn't find humorous. Akefia looked so dumb and so – adorable, when he did those sorts of things. "No need to get offended, it's just that you've never done that before, have you now?"

"I do it all the time! And even if I didn't, what does it matter to you? It's my life, and I can do what I want!"

Yami Marik broke out into full-fledge laughter at this, not even attempting to hold back anymore. That was the stupidest thing he had ever heard! When they had been children, Akefia was always like this, so quick to blame and even quicker to defend. It was hard to take him seriously, or it had been. He had changed though, and failed to be Akefia. His laughter died on his lips and his smile faded at the memory.

…

It had taken the two small children most of the day to find Akefia's mother in the mass of ruined buildings and corpses that the Pharaoh's men had left behind. When they had unearthed her broken, mangled body from underneath the remains of his home, Akefia hadn't said a word. He had merely turned his head away from his mother's blank, dark eyes, taken her feet and helped Marik carry her away to the place where they had buried their other loved ones: Vera and Marik. In this grave they had also laid to rest the corpses of some of the children they had known. They would have liked to have buried everyone, but they were only two young boys and it would have been too exhausting.

They had marked their humble grave with three small stones they had found. Since there wasn't the room to fit their whole name, they had simply marked their initials on them instead. "Well, now what?" Akefia asked. His voice sounded distant and strangely hollow. He asked the question because they had done everything that had needed to be done, and they couldn't stay here anymore- there was nothing left. "I don't know." Marik replied: his voice sounded different too, but not in the same way that Akefia's had. Akefia looked away from the remains of Kul Elna, and faced his friend. "Perhaps we could go to the city?" he suggested, "Anywhere is better than here, this place reeks of death."

"I know-" Yami Marik replied in a whisper, staring down at his feet.

Kul Elna had been destroyed late at night and now it was nearly dawn. The thunderstorm was over, but the dark clouds remained, hiding the heavens with their grey presence. Still though, sunlight broke through, heating the wet desert. The puddles left behind were slowly evaporating, the blood in the remaining water and on the desert sand had spoiled and so had the flesh of the dead. The scent of old blood and rancid meat hung heavily over the area, trapped by the humidity- the vile scent coating their throats, making them nauseous. "Well, if we're leaving, we'd best start now." Akefia didn't look back at the ruins which had once been his home, and started off towards the setting sun, a small glisten of gold in the distance- that must have been the Pharaoh's Palace. Before the Palace was the city. "Wait up!" Marik cried, running after Akefia. Once they were nearly out of sight's range from Kul Elna and the grave, Marik turned his head back to look at them- one last glance at the people he would never see again. Akefia didn't look back.


End file.
